


Shatterd Balance

by Shatteredpaladin



Category: Transformers - All Media Types
Genre: Action & Romance, Alternate Universe, Bonding, Eventual Romance, Eventual Smut, F/M, Giant Robots, Interspecies Relationship(s), Interspecies Romance, Interspecies Sex, Robot/Human Relationships, Romance, Science Fiction, Size Difference, Smut, Sticky Sexual Interfacing (Transformers), Touching, Xenophilia
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-09
Updated: 2021-03-07
Packaged: 2021-03-15 20:55:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 5
Words: 30,134
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29320491
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Shatteredpaladin/pseuds/Shatteredpaladin
Summary: In an alternate universe, the Autobots have won the war for Cybertron. The Decepticon leader, Megatron, orders his forces to scatter across the galaxy. A lone huntress, Shatter, is sent to the energon rich planet earth to create an outpost for any war survivors. Forming an alliance of convenience with a Soviet defector, the pair realize they have more in common than meets the eye. As their relationship slowly grows, larger forces begin to move around them.Reviews and feedback welcome
Relationships: Shatter (Transformers)/Original Human Character
Kudos: 53





	1. Rough Landing

**Author's Note:**

> Notes on time delineation:  
> Time, according to what continuity you are looking at, varies in scale. So, I thought I would mark down how I use the Cybertronian time frame  
> Cycle=1 hour  
> Mega-cycle=24 hours  
> Solar cycle=1 month  
> Stellar cycle=1 year

The centuries-long war to control Cybertron was coming to an end. The Decepticons, Cybertronians created as warriors, had almost seized victory as Megatron, their general, had swayed many sparks and minds to his cause; A Cybertron freed from the rigid caste system. He preached an ideal where each Cybteronian would be free to choose their path in life. The Decepticon rebellion, empowered by a tide of supporters, had almost seized total victory; until The Prime appeared. Legends said that The Prime was chosen by Primus, their Creator, and was given the fabled and powerful artifact the Matrix of Leadership. Under this new leader, who swore to end the war and restore peace and stability, the Autobot ranks swelled; even Megatron’s soldiers defected to serve The Prime. With a renewed zeal and bolstered forces, the Autobots pushed the Decepticon’s to their final stronghold at Kaon.

Before the war, Kaon had been an industrial center. The spires of smelting pits and forges still rose proudly and now dormant, into the air. Rail tracks that had once brought energon and ore for refinement were empty, ruined, or littered with debris. Among the towering spires of what had been a successful space operation Megatron, leader of the Decepticon forces, watched the final siege unfold from atop the last secure launching platform. Smoke filled the sky as fires burned in the distance. Flashes of light and eruptions of flame tracked the progress of the invading Autobots. Megatron folded his arms behind his back and watched. The sound of heavy footsteps approaching caused him to look over his shoulder. A thin smile crossed his face.

"What is it, Shockwave?" he asked while turning back to look at the unfolding battle. His optics narrowed as an explosion split the air, and another defensive line collapsed. Shockwave was slightly shorter than Megatron. The scientist's body was forged in a perfect match for his personality. Blunt, almost brutal angles made up his robotic form. A powerful plasma cannon composed his left arm, and tank treads folded neatly along the back of his calves and across his broad back. The dying sunlight seemed to be absorbed into his dark purple and teal coloration.

"General," Shockwave spoke with little emotion as he stood next to his commander, "it is illogical that you should remain." He turned his cylindrical head, fitted with a faceted red mono-optic, up to his general's dull grey and purple form.

"Mm," Megatron mused as he stroked his chin with one hand, "how much time is left?"

"I calculate," Shockwave spoke with a deep voice, "that Kaon will fall in two mega-cycles. If they manage to breach the Arena, it will take them one. Our primary forces are already off-planet. This war is lost, but logic dictates that your cause will not falter if you survive." Megatron let out a dry, short laugh.

"And that's what it's come down to? Survival?" Megatron said with a tired grimace as he watched the flashes of light growing closer. He was about to say something when movement in the sky drew his attention, as did another set of footsteps approaching. "Ah, good." He smiled and stretched his arm out.

Lazerbeak, a sizeable mechanical raven and the most prized reconnaissance bot in his command, swooped down with a spiral before landing gracefully on the offered perch of Megatron's arm. Lazerbeak, clad in purple with black and dark blue streaks, leaned in eagerly to the finger that scratched under his beak. Megatron turned his back on the battle and looked at Soundwave, who had joined them. The communication and intel officer was a quiet bot with a faceplate and a red visored optic. His body, painted in greys and dark blues, reflected his alternative mode's heavy all-terrain nature. The three mechs stood silently as the sound of battle reached them. On each body, small parts and features undulated, rolled, clicked, or whirred softly independently. Megatron finally spoke. 

"Now, we can find out what's been going on behind the front lines." Megatron ran his hand down Lazerbeaks's head and neck before he shifted his arm. The deployer soared over and transformed to fit within the chest of his master, Soundwave. The latter began projecting several videos and audio recordings, such as Iacon, the capital city, being rebuilt. Posters and holograms flashed, declaring the rule of The Prime and an end to the war. The final image caused Megatron to scowl, and his hands clenched into tight fists. Soundwave projected a building with a line of bots, all in shackles, being lead inside. The word "REPROGRAMMING" floated as a holographic projection. The prison line had not only warriors but laborers and administrators as well - all those who had joined his cause.

"Then, it's true," Megatron said through gritted teeth.

"Their actions are logical." Shockwave finally spoke and turned his singular optic to Megatron. "What better way to instill order than to remove any undesirable trails from the populace?" A rare hint of anger growled low in the voice modulator of the scientist.

"They are the actions of a fanatic!" Megatron growled as he turned his back sharply to look out at the ever-approaching Autobot forces. The irony of his words was not lost on him. "Soundwave, "he turned back to look at his communications officer, "give the evacuation order. I want every Decepticon off-world. And summon a hunter, I have a task for one of them. As for us, "he stood tall and began to walk away from the edge of the platform, "we have one final mission to prepare for."

On the smoke and debris choked streets of Kaon, a single Autobot patrol pushed forward slowly. They had been a full fireteam when their mission began; now, there were only three of the eight remaining. The smoke and dust clogged the air, and the bots were jumping at shadows, firing randomly at shapes they thought they saw moving in the distance. Their advance halted at an intersection while they tried to plan their next move. Shatter, a Decepticon huntress, crouched above them in the shadows of the overpass. Her red, black, and purple colors allowed her to blend in. The huntress was an absolute femme beauty as if forged in the very image of Solus Prime herself. Primus had created her as a warrior, which made her stockier and taller than most femmes, which added an exotic air to her look. The single flat antenna on the right of her head tilted as she listened to the panicking Autobots below.   


"Air support, we need air support, damnit!" One of the bots was on the comms. "We've been cut off, and we can't see a damn thing in this Pit blasted smoke. We've lost five bots already. We need evac!" When static was the only response, his face dropped, and he whirled to look at one of the other survivors. One bot had the large, bulky body of a simple cargo flier who had converted for combat operations. "You can fly; why aren't you airborne?!" The mech in question gave the other bot a grim look as the swept wings along his back twitched

"That last ambush damaged my t-cog." He said slowly, pulling a blue-white stained hand away from the wounded area. Fresh energon began to seep out, making him press his hand on it again. Heavy despair fell over the three as they tried to form a perimeter and wait out the storm. "It's almost over, "the flier said, "If we can hold here, if we can just wait, we'll be fine, just, "he paused as his hand shook slightly, "just fine."

Shatter allowed herself a small, thin smile as she picked up a palm-sized piece of metal from nearby debris and calculated her throw. The scrap metal soared from her charcoal grey fingers to clatter behind the patrol with a swift throw. The sound caused them to turn and blindly open fire, lighting up the smoke clogged road. The huntress seized the moment and fell on the one closest to her from her perch. A long, serrated blade slid from just above her wrist and impaled the Autobot through the spark chamber. The sound of bodies colliding and a dying groan drew the attention of the other two. Keeping the mech impaled on her weapon, she pointed her free arm towards another bot as it shifted into a single-barreled automatic cannon and opened fire. Metal and sparks flew as the heavy bolts ripped past his energy shield and punched smoldering holes through the armored chest and head. The flier was the only one left. The mech started shooting at her with a roar but was hitting his comrade's sparkless body instead.

The heavy plasma bolts slammed into the corpse and pushed Shatter back. The huntress pulled her blade free and hurled her improvised shield at the flier, who shifted to dodge the attack. Shatter moved with a ruthless, predatory grace and lept on the Autobot. A panicked scream became a groan of pain as her arm blade pierced his chest. The momentum caused them to fall back and land on the ground with a heavy clang. He was pinned under the femme, who twisted the blade slightly in his chest. The autocannon shifted back into a hand that gently stroked along the cheek of the pinned Autobot. The femme's ruthless face changed into a soft, almost caring smile directed at the downed mech.

"Shhh, "her voice was soft as she brushed her thumb over his mouth before cupping the back of his neck with her fingers, "I missed your spark chamber on purpose, Autobot. Now, be a good mech, and tell me where Silverbolt is." Her glowing red optics softened a little as she stroked the back of his neck. The weakened flier put his hand around the blade and tried to pull it out, but only got another twist of the weapon for his effort. With a grunt, he answered her.

"To the Pit with you, femme glitch. The war's over; you've lost. I won't tell you…" he screamed in pain as the blade twisted sharply in his chest.

"Where. Is. Silverbolt?" She punctuated each word with another twist of her weapon, and her voice had become a harsh whisper as she grabbed the back of his head. The mech’s optics flared as his body began to shake.

"I, "he began, "I don't know! Primus, help me, I don't know!" His voice cracked with panic and sobs. Shatter patted his cheek lightly and made a few soft tutting noises at him.

"That's too bad. And here I was going to reward you for being a good little mech." She teased, brushing her thumb along his lips before pulling the blade from his chest. He gasped in pain and relief as the impalement was over. The huntress shifted the angle of her weapon, and with a swift and brutal stroke, she gutted his spark chamber. Shatter watched with glaring optics as the Autobot's body turned a dull color as his spark went out. She stood and swept her arm, clearing the blade of energon, before it retracted. "Well, another wasted interrogation." Shatter mused to herself and wondered if there was time to hit another patrol. The choice was made for her when Soundwave's modulated voice buzzed in her audio receptor. The general evacuation order was going out, but she had orders to meet with Megatron. She didn't waste time thinking about what her general wanted. Shatter took off in a sprint as her body began transforming into a car mode - panels, tires, doors, and other components shifted in a smooth mechanical dance as the femme changed into a sleek, powerful muscle car. The huntress's wheels hit the ground, already spinning, making a loud squeal as she peeled out and raced to her destination.

Several Autobot patrols slowed her progress to the lift. The femme had to dodge, kill or find other ways to avoid her enemies to reach the elevator door. After a smooth transformation back into her robot form, the huntress pressed the button calling the elevator down. Both of her arms changed into cannons while she put her back to the lift's wall. A tactical display overlayed her vision as she waited. The elevator arrived with a whisper before the doors slid open. As she stepped inside, the femme's arms changed back to hands, and one almost smashed the console in frustration.

The world outside was silenced in the lift tube, giving Shatter a moment alone with her thoughts and feelings. She hugged herself and closed her optics as bitterness began to well in her spark. She thought of what would happen under the restored Senate. Cybertron would be thrown back into an even more rigid caste system. If the rumors were true, dissidents would be reprogrammed and likely suffer empurata and have limbs cut off and replaced. Her body shuddered at the thought as her mind drifted to the comrades lost in the war. A hollow, lonely feeling began to grow with her resentment.

"After everything we've fought for, and everything I," she paused, "we lost this is how it ends." As the elevator neared the top, the muffled sounds of a pitched battle reached her audio receptors. After the lift came to a stop and the doors opened, she saw chaotic and frantic aerial action. Seekers were engaged in intense dogfights to maintain control of the skies. She saw either Acidstorm or Thundercracker take down two Autobot ships; it was hard to tell color patterns from where she stood. Smiling at the two fresh Autobot losses, she stepped onto the launch pad and stopped. The imposing form of Megatron stood in front of her. He towered over the huntress. The general was a flier, but his body had been forged with such seamless perfection it was impossible to determine the vehicular parts of his alternate mode. Deep red optics looked down at her. At the same time, the handsome, predatory, and scar-marked face softened into a smile. She dropped to a knee and placed a hand over her spark chamber while bowing her head. "General." Shatter spoke his rank with respect.

Megatron looked down at the femme as she dropped to a knee. His army had once been vast, large enough that he could not know the name or function of every bot who served as warriors. Shatter, however, had distinguished herself in several campaigns along with her partner, Dropkick. Megatron thought for a moment, and the memory came to him. The femme and the mech had been bonded, deeply, to each other. Dropkick had perished not long after the civil war began. The general tried to remember all the details, but there was just so much to remember. His spark ached for the huntress. She had turned even more ruthless and had a near-perfect mission success rate; the femme was fueled by hatred and a need for revenge, but that would only lead to her own destruction. Nodding to himself, Megatron felt this mission would be suitable for her; a break from the fighting and a chance to heal, he hoped.

"Ah, Shatter, Soundwave made a good choice. "She heard the weariness in Megatron's voice." I have a mission for you." The femme stood up and folded her hands behind her back while looking at the general. His face was grim, his optics narrowed, and his brows were knit together. The broad shoulders looked weighed down by some unseen burden. Shatter's optics turned as she heard someone approach. Soundwave approached them and gave Megatron a salute, who responded with a nod before speaking to the huntress. "Soundwave will brief you on the details. This is an important mission, Shatter, and it will be vital to our survival away from Cybertron. You have an impressive record, and I trust you will not fail me.” He gave the femme a sharp nod of his head before marching away.

Shatter gave her general a salute and watched Megatron walk away. His back was straight and proud, but she swore there was a heavyweight on his spiky shoulders. It must simply be battle fatigue, she thought, and then turned to look at Soundwave. The blue and grey color bot was the same height as her, but the faceplate and visor like optic gave him an eerie, silent quality. Her gears shivered as that optic swept over her before Soundwave turned and walked away.

"Come with me." He ordered with his unusual, electronic, and monotone voice. Lazerbeak rested on his shoulder and looked at the femme with silent, watchful golden eyes. Shatter simply rolled her optics and followed him over to a raised pedestal. She knew that Soundwave was still reeling from a series of betrayals he should have been able to stop, betrayals that helped lead the Decepticons to such a deplorable state. Had it not been for Megatron, the communications officer would have been killed already. The mech was trying to atone, or at least, not screw things up again.

The pedestal he stopped at had been shaped from the launching platform itself, and soft blinking lights were spread across the surface. A hologram of Kaon was projected along the flat top part of the projector. Spots of red dotted the hologram, showing where various battles were still taking place. Soundwave's hands began to change as the terminal responded to him. Two ports rose from the pedestal to accept his hands as the mech directly interfaced with the projector. The hologram of Kaon was suddenly replaced with a planet. Shatter picked out the separate landmasses as the projection rotated slowly.

"This world is called Earth, "Soundwave began," it's a quiet, unassuming planet that Megatron believes can serve as a rallying point. The world is rich in energon to almost absurd amounts." The projection shifted, and data points of known energon deposits began to flash across the hologram. The world spun again as Soundwave started to pile more data on top of it. The speed and scale of the information he was building up made Shatter's optics twitch, and she looked away. "Your mission is to establish an outpost and send communications for any Decepticons to gather on the planet. Megatron will follow when his mission on Cybertron is complete. You are to remain as discreet as possible. Unless you think the native life can be helpful, you are to avoid contact as much as possible." The bot droned on until the projection was replaced with Kaon once again. Soundwave pulled his hands free from the interface, held two thumb-sized data drives in his hand.

Picking one up, Soundwave gave it to the huntress." This, "he began, "contains schematics for basic survival. Energon extractors, refineries, and, if needed, how to convert the native tools and materials to fulfill your mission." Shatter took the drive and examined it. The device was made of exposed circuitry with a blunt end. A plate on her opposite wrist opened up, and she stored the data drive in there before she took the second one and placed it with the other. "This drive," Soundwave continued," contains xeno-biological data on flora and fauna, as well as several known languages and possible linguistic changes from when the last expedition was there." One of Soundwave's hands changed to interface with the terminal again, and a spacecraft was lifted into a launch-ready position. "Supplies are already loaded for you huntress." 

Soundwave turned his full attention back to the display of Kaon. Questions ran through Shatter's mind, but she knew better. The mech had said all he was going to say. She had been briefed, she had her mission, and now she was expected to carry it out. Out of respect, she saluted his back before turning and running to the raised vessel. The ship was a small one-seater and looked like a blunted arrow with wings. The femme checked the small cargo hold and inventoried what had been loaded. Nodding to herself, she sealed the hatch and climbed into the cockpit.

Once the dome closed and sealed with a soft hiss, Shatter quickly went through a pre-flight check as the shuttle powered up. The Seekers were holding the skies for now, but they had many ships to provide cover. As the engines began to activate, she thought about how to make it through the chaos above her. An Autobot fighter came screaming from the sky, engulfed in flames and crashed below the landing pad. She shifted the throttle forward and felt the pressure as the ship rose swiftly into the skies. The ascent into orbit was rapid and tense as she dodged dogfighting Seekers, explosions, and showers of debris, but the femme made it safely into orbit. The darkness of space enveloped her, and she prepared the ship for a transwarp jump as Cybertron slowly faded behind her. Shatter took one last look at Cybertron from behind the cockpit's canopy before focusing on the task at hand.

A soft hum rang along the ship's inside, indicating the transwarp drives were ready, and she activated them. Shatter leaned back and watched as the universe blurred into the vast, spinning array of colors of transwarp space. Sitting up, she looked over the ship computer's calculations about arrival time. "Almost a solar cycle." She sighed and slumped back into the seat and sat in silence for a moment, just listening to the quiet sounds of the ship. "Time to learn in stasis, I guess." Shatter programmed the ship to wake her from stasis once it dropped from transwarp space and then reclined in the chair. She reached for the stored data drives and selected the one with linguistic and biological data on it. For a moment, her optics looked over the softly glowing circuitry as her mind wandered. "Languages, some sort of intelligent life?" She wondered out loud before sighing. A slot opened at the base of her neck, and she slid the data drive into it. As her optics closed for a prolonged stasis sleep, her neural processors began to download the data. 

A gentle surge passed through Shatter's system as her shuttle dropped out of transwarp space. Her optics slowly opened to the dim lights of the cockpit. She stretched, as much as she could, in the cabin and sat upright. The huntress had dropped out of transwarp in orbit around a pale silver-white moon. Ahead of her, the blue-green planet Earth was shining against the blackness of space. Her optics narrowed as she looked at the world.

"What an underwhelming planet." She said while taking control of the shuttle. Shatter broke orbit with the moon and began her approach to the planet. While the ship was plotting an approach vector, her long-range scanners picked up something that made her smile. A network of primitive satellites was in orbit. "Well," she remarked, "it's never too early to get intel." Her fingers danced over a console. The femme's hacking skills relied more on brute force than any finesse - something Soundwave would have corrected her on - but she got access to one and began to download information. Information, as the communications officer was fond of saying, was power. Shatter gripped the control stick with a hand and leaned back while looking over the incoming data. Much to her disappointment, it was useless images of land and buildings. "I might make some use of it, later." Shatter dismissed the intel as her mind drifted to Soundwave.

During the war, the Decepticon losses mounted in part to a traitor giving the Autobots intel. Soundwave, skilled in information warfare, should have prevented the entire debacle, she thought. Then again, she reminded herself, Starscream's ego was only matched by his cunning. Soundwave had rooted him out in the end. Shatter sighed as the planet grew more prominent in front of her.

"I suppose Starscream was a lesson in always being vigilant," the femme said bitterly. A sudden alarm blared at her as her sensors detected a ship closing in on her. It was broadcasting an Autobot registration code. "Scrap!" She looked at the readout of the craft now chasing her. It was an interceptor class ship, and the weapons were already locking onto her. The huntress didn't have time to think about the irony of her situation as she prayed to Primus she could outfly the Autobot.

The interceptor closed in on her, and flashes of light filled the space in front of her. The Autobot pilot had fired simple warning shots, but she was not going to be intimidated. Shatter had gotten close enough that the earth's gravity began to pull on her ship. She pitched her shuttle into a steep and reckless dive. As the atmosphere closed around the ship, shutters closed as the heat shields came down. She was blind apart from her sensors. The turbulent descent caused the shuttle to shudder as bits of the hull were ripped away. The femme's gears rattled from the turbulence until she had finally cleared the upper atmosphere. The shields dropped to reveal a massive expanse of blue water and the coasts of two large landmasses. She eased her angle of descent and fired her engines, just as her alarms told her of a new weapons lock.

Shatter turned her shuttle into a hard bank as a missile shot past her. A glance at her radar showed the interceptor was closing quickly. The sudden rattle of heavy bolts pelting into the hull told her she was in canon range. Damage reports began to flash across the controls as she struggled to maintain the ship's stability. The Autobot interceptor passed over her with a whoosh and turned in a wide, almost lazy, bank to dive right at her. Whoever the pilot was, they didn't bother with missiles as the cannon ripped into the side and hull of her ship. The huntress screamed as searing pain lanced through her leg. "SCRAP!" She cursed when the shuttle began to spiral out of control towards the ground.

The space between the ocean and the land blurred as her vessel spun wildly towards the earth. Shatter grit her teeth and fought hard with the control stick to get the ship back under control. She managed to stabilize the shuttle and quickly checked her consoles. The Autobot closed on her before she could react, and her gears felt like they rose into her throat as an engine was blown away. Her ship went into a steep, unstoppable dive. The ground rose to meet her in a brutal impact that made her blackout.

The wailing alarms of the craft turned into ghostly, otherworldly sounding moans as their power slowly faded away. The sound was enough to bring Shatter back to the waking world. With a groan, she shook her head and took stock of her situation. The crash had ruined the cockpit. Consoles sparked and sputtered from damage, and smoke was beginning to fill the area as the power ebbed away from it. Sudden lancing pain caused her to double over in the chair as she pressed her hand to the new injury. Shatter felt energon leaking from the wound, and a quick tactical display over her vision laid out the damage; shrapnel was lodged in her torso, and internal repair couldn't take place until it was removed. She felt that Primus must have blessed her since her thigh wound was clean and could be ignored for now. Bracing herself, she kicked the canopy open and climbed out of the wrecked spacecraft.

Shatter took a moment to get familiar with the alien landscape that surrounded her. Almost everything around her was minuscule. The strange spires covered with odd needles or other foliage were the only things as tall or taller than her. The crackling sound of the impact fire burned behind her as multiple organic forms ran from the sound and the smoke. She hated this world already. The ground was soft and covered in some green hair or fur that felt uncomfortable to walk on. The femme ran through the information Soundwave had given her. She was in a "forest." The tall structures were "trees." She caught sight of several "deer," a "raccoon," and "birds" all fleeing the scene. Her lip turned up in a sneer as her optics looked over the land around her. "Disgusting." She muttered and grimaced as she limped away from the wreck. A noise in the distance made her stop. Her audio sensors focused on identifying it. Faintly the huntress could make out the whine of jet engines. It could merely be an earthling craft, but her spark told her better. She turned back to her damaged ship to get a little welcome ready. 

Shatter managed to pry open the cargo hatch and frowned. Almost everything had been destroyed in the crash. The spare energon cubes were cracked and leaking. Nothing would be of much use apart from a small repair kit. Taking the kit, Shatter pulled the foam sealant from it. She pressed the tip of the dispenser into the hole at her thigh and put her hand on the other side before pulling the trigger. A sudden, disorientating sensation of the wound being filled with the sealant made the huntress hiss a little. The medical foam quickly hardened as it closed the wound. That should aid her internal repair systems; the injury at her side was a different matter. The repair kit had a self-adhesive band for a large wound. That would stop any more energon from leaking but would not help with the healing process. Having patched herself as best she could with what was available, the huntress went to the craft's fuel cells. 

Half a cycle later and she was ready as she sat down against a tree not far from the now smoldering wreckage. The bark felt rough and rubbed against her metal skin. Everything on this planet was an irritation. Even patched, her leg pain was getting hard to ignore, and the wound in her side felt like it was getting worse under the patch. An internal warning went off, informing her that internal damage would prevent a successful transformation; her Cybertronian form was too damaged and needed reformatting. Without scanning some kind of compatible earth vehicle, she would be unable to transform, but transforming would let most of her internal systems deal with all but the most serious injury she had sustained. Shatter would have laughed at the absurdity of her situation; if her spark were not at risk of going offline.

The sound of jet engines coming closer drew her attention, and the huntress smirked. As she had guessed, the Autobot who followed her was coming to either confirm the kill or capture the prisoner. Her audio sensors picked up the sound of transformation and a heavy impact as the Autobot landed. The dull thudding of footsteps drew closer to her through the woods. From the other side of the wreckage, she saw his bulky body come into view, a cannon aimed at her head. Hate boiled up inside of her when she saw who it was. The silver and gold color scheme, the "heroic" way the mech walked made her want to scream.

"Decepticon Shatter," Silverbolt said with his usual calm and insufferable valiant tone, "you are wanted for high crimes against the Republic of Cybertron. You stand guilty of your crimes. Surrender, and you will be sent to a reprogramming center, resist and…" he trailed off as he got closer. Shatter could not hide the hatred and anger on her face as the Autobot flier stood in front of her. His golden eyes softened, and he lowered his weapon slightly while she slumped over a little. "Shatter, "he said, "please surrender. You're a skilled bot, and Cybertron needs someone like you to help rebuild. Don't throw your life away as Dropkick did."

Shatter's head snapped up as her emotions went to someplace that was beyond fury, beyond hate. She offered him a fake smile as she sat back up and revealed the detonator in her hand.

"Burn." Her tone lacked any emotion as she pressed the trigger, and time seemed to slow down. Silverbolt's eyes widened when he realized what was happening, and he moved, then stopped, not sure which way to go. It was perfect. The wrecked escape craft and the area around it suddenly erupted into a blue-white flare of heat and pressure as energon tanks ruptured with spectacular violence. Flare compensators dimmed her vision as the fireball blossomed in front of her. The pressure wave slammed into her body and tore the patch off her side. The heat and pressure caused her injured side to rupture slightly. She gritted her teeth through the pain, and as the explosion died out, the smoking, charred torso of Silverbolt landed with a dull sound not far from her.

Smiling despite the pain, Shatter stood up and limped over to the lifeless body of the Autobot. She glared at his corpse for a moment before she raised her foot and slammed it down on his cranium to crush it. Pain from the bolt wound shot through her body, but she endured it to make sure Silverbolt was terminated. "Until all are one, you slagging pile of scrap." She cursed his name and moved away from the carnage. Energon leaked from under her hand that was pressed hard to her side. The internal alarm sounded like a dull, distant echo. She didn't care what happened now. Let the primitive puny earthlings discover this place. They could do whatever their perverse backward minds could come up with to Silverbolt. He was dead, and she likely would be soon as well. The huntress only cared that she had failed the general. All Megatron would find would be a pair of corpses, if even that. But, she could die with her revenge in hand, however hollow that was now. Her vision began to fade into fuzzy images as she trudged onwards. Her body began to feel heavy, and her legs were growing stiff every time she tried to move them. Her vision blurred on her just as she missed the edge of the cliff and stepped off into nothing.

Shatter tumbled over and barely registered the first impact on the ground under her. She bounced off of it and felt the second impact even less. After a third dull impact, she rolled to a stop on the ground. A bright red WARNING was flashing across her vision, and she didn't care. A sound reached her receptors, and with an effort, she turned her head towards it. Her vision had become obscured with warning signs of her immediate death when something caught her optic. The word ACCEPTED flashed before her vision. Her t-cog and transformation matrix worked to alter the femme's body to the chosen form. Shatter felt the change taking place just as the darkness claimed her.


	2. First Contact

Planet: Earth  
  
Location: The Presidental Mountain Range, New England

Earth year: 1982

Leonid Kogan shut the door of his '67 Ford pickup at the front gate and rubbed the sleep that still clung to his eyes while stifling a yawn; the large Russian had slept poorly last night. A cold, early New England winter breeze kicked up in his direction and brought the smell of pine, rusting metal, and oil to the broad nose of his squared face. He smiled while stuffing his hands into the warm pockets of his coat and looked over the scrapyard. The early morning sun shone through a clear blue sky, making the frost and light snow shimmer and glitter, giving the graveyard of metal an otherworldly, almost fairy-like appearance. He was glad to be here today; he needed to be here. The scrapyard was a place he could escape and think, but a black cloud mood still hung over the back of his mind as he set out for the gatehouse to check-in.

Leonid stepped up to the tempered glass and knocked on it softly before putting his hand back into his pocket. The window slid open to reveal an older, slightly heavyset man. Chuck had almost white hair, a thin beard, and a round face with rosy cheeks and a perpetual grin. No one could tell the Russian that Chuck was not some incarnation of Saint Nicholas; he always felt better talking with the older man.

"Moring Leo," Chuck said with his usual cheerfulness as he leaned back and turned down the radio. A weather report forecasting a nasty blizzard grew quiet as the plump man rested his hands on what he jokingly called his "preaching muscle" and smiled at the Russian. "You doin' alright there, Leo? You look like you had a rough night." Chuck idly rubbed at a silver ring on his right hand. Leonid, or Leo to his few friends, had noticed this habit of the older man. The ring was solid silver with a broad, square, and flat face with three bizarre, almost alien symbols. Leo had never asked Chuck about it because he quickly learned that Americans were obsessed with "little green men from Mars." It was preposterous to the Russian, but he had no intention of insulting one of his only friends.

"Da, I did not sleep very well last night," Leo answered as he fought off another yawn. Chuck raised an eye at him.

"Everything going alright at work?" The inquiry was honest and sincere, and it made Leo smile.  
"Of course, you know I love what I do, and I am thankful for the job, but…" Leo trailed off a little as he looked down.

"Ah," Chuck said wisely, "don't worry about it, Leo. Those people are just fools who've bought into all that "Red Scare" nonsense. There are greater things out there than us, you know." The older man flashed the Russian a knowing smile as he fiddled with his ring, and Leo could not help but smile.

"Da, you may be right. Anyway, I am just here to look around a bit, clear my head and see if anything sticks out as that Volkswagen bus did. I have the next two weeks to," Leo paused, thinking of the right word, "recover. So a project to tinker with would be nice." Chuck softly laughed as he grabbed the sign-in clipboard and stood up to hand it to Leo.

"You know, "the old man said with a slight twinkle in his eye, "you should check out the third row down, back by the fence. That's where I keep the really good stuff." Leo handed the clipboard back with a laugh and just nodded.

"Spasibo, thank you" With a smile, the Russian set off down the gentle slope from the gatehouse. Frost, gravel, and snow crunched under his boots as he went down the hill at a brisk pace. The air was cool, crisp, and invigorating, and the talk with Chuck had been refreshing as well, but the further away from the gatehouse, the stronger the black cloud mood began to invade his thoughts.

Leo turned to start down the aisle of the third row Chuck had suggested and came to a stop. The black cloud had become a storm inside of him that demanded to be let loose. The Russian began to walk in the most arrogant, swaggering way he could as he adopted the most stereotypical American accent he could manage.

"Hey, Ivan, you sure that the fuel mix is right? Don’t want folks to think you are some sneak saboteur, do ya?" Leo let out a mocking laugh and then spit on the ground. "No, do you think I am an idiot?! Of course, you do, you stupid fat American pig! I have been doing this for nearly ten years, but oh, you just have to rub it in old Ivan's face how backward his country is!" A string of Russian curses flew from his mouth. "We put the first man into space! We were the first to put a man-made satellite in space, and you DARE act like I do not know what I am doing?!" Leo then turned as if he were talking to someone else and made a noise like someone trying to imitate a ghost would. "Oo, be afraid, little Tina, of the big bad Russian spy man! Yes, whisper about all your little affairs in the office, you cock sucking slut, so the KGB spy can go tell "Uncle Joe" in the Kremlin all you disgusting affairs, you worthless BLYADINA!" He spun around and took a few steps, and a stray tin-can became the focus for his anger. The heavy boot rushed forward and sent the innocent can flying as he screamed at the sky and then sunk back against a stack of scrap metal. Tears were stinging his eyes in the early winter cold. "Five years." He said softly. "Five years of their unending stupidity and childish taunts. I should have just taken a bullet, or gone to a labor camp or…." he trailed off as something began scratching the skin of his wrist. With nearly blurry eyes, he looked at the prayer rope fastened there.

The Orthodox prayer rope had been the last gift his grandfather had given him. Leo wasn't really sure if he was a believer, certainly not like his dedushka had been. But Leo had learned the Orthodox Church's meditation prayer, and, with a soft smile, he took the rope off his wrist and stretched it out while closing his eyes. Starting at the first chord of the rope, he quietly spoke the words of the prayer. Leo worked through each line before moving to the next chord. Whether he was really praying in faith or just practicing a form of meditation, Leo had never been sure; but by the time he finished and tied the prayer rope around his wrist, he felt calmer as he found his center again.

"It's not all bad, "he said, looking up at the sky, "I have a good manager, the boss recognizes my work, and they both seem to know how much I can take and time I need off. Hell, "he chuckled, "I'm even friends with one of my Secret Service handlers. And, if the current project goes well, who knows." Shrugging his shoulders, he put his hands back into his pockets, stood up, and started walking again. He thought of John, the agent leading his liaison with the American government. John was a good man who tried to make him feel not so alone, and the man had a precious daughter. Leo smiled, thinking of how bright little Lisa's smile was when "Uncle Leo" presented her with a VW bus that had been fixed up for her sixteenth birthday present. "It could always be much…." Leo's words trailed off as he rounded a corner and saw what Chuck had no doubt clued him to by suggesting this aisle to go down. 

Under a layer of fresh snow and frost, sitting near the corner of the fence, was the singular car of his dreams—a 1967 Ford Mustang GT Shelby Cobra. The Iron Curtain had not been as immune to Western influence as the Party would have liked it to be and some of Leo's prized possessions had been smuggled car magazines from America. Those had given him a love for American car culture and the muscle car most of all. Now, Leo had the chance to get the one car he desired the most. "Beautiful." The Russian softly said as he stepped up to the Mustang. Green eyes took in the paint job. It was an odd choice he had never seen, with the front half a dark, almost blood red color while the back half was a charcoal black. The divide of colors was clearly marked by a sharp angle between the front and rear half. Using his coat sleeve, Leo brushed off the snow off the car, revealing dark purple racing stripes.

"Hm, interesting colors." He mused as he put his hands on the car lightly. She was cold to the touch, but he didn't care. Leo traced his fingers softly along the front side fender as he began to walk around the Mustang, drinking in every detail about the car. She was scuffed, scratched, dented, and there were even a few holes in the doors and along the back fenders. "Were you in a war zone?" He asked the car while circling around it. The other side didn't look much better, and he noted the tires were ragged and the rims were almost rusted out. Leo moved around to the driver's side and opened the door. There was some resistance, but with a grunt, he got the door open and climbed inside. "What a beauty." He said again as his hands gently rubbed along the steering wheel and traced over the dusty dash. The Russian snuggled into the bench seat and just sat there for a moment smiling. "Whoever did your interior found the most comfortable leather I have ever felt." He giggled like a schoolboy as he got out of the car, shut the door, and practically ran back to the gatehouse. Leo didn't care how much it cost. He would take this Mustang home today and get to work right away. "Finally," he thought," there's some real light in my life here."

The sensation of life began to flow through Shatter's circuits once again. A dull ache was the first thing to greet her as the blackness of stasis lock slowly began to fade. Far away, the shrill cry of some creature floated through the air as her senses all started to come back online gradually. Her vision was still locked in darkness as the huntress mentally browsed over the internal diagnostic scan. Her energon reserves were low, but not dangerously so anymore, as long as she stayed transformed. The wound in her thigh had closed, which was one positive, she thought. The shrapnel was stuck in place, but reformatting her body by picking an earth alt mode had saved her life. Letting out a mental sigh, she began to open the rest of her senses up. First, she allowed her magnetic and electric sensitivity to come online. A shiver ran through her spark as the electromagnetic field of the Earth came to her. Megatron was right; this world was beyond rich in energon. Shatter could feel it in the very atmosphere of this world; now that she wasn't fighting an Autobot, the sensation was clear. Next, she activated her short-range radio senses.She picked up a flood of signals and turned that sense back off. The primitive earthlings had grasped radio waves, so she could listen in when it suited her. Finally, she opened her other senses up and nearly choked on what was around her.

The smell of death hung heavy in the air. Rotting metal, rust, and rancid oil filled her olfactory receptor, and she had to shut it off not to be overwhelmed by the scale of the rot that was in the air. Everything creaked and cracked around her with a decaying menace. Her front visual sensors picked up several towering stacks of metal that were all twisted, cracked, or flattened in unnatural ways. The mangled corpse of several vehicles were directly to her side. Everything was covered in a layer of ice and some white powder. The sunlight made it all sparkle and glow with a ghastly brilliance.

"I'm dead." Came the dreadful thought. "I'm dead, and I'm stuck in the Pit! By Primus! No, this can't be happening, this can't be real!" Shatter thought quickly, trying to force her panic down. Everywhere she turned her sensors, there was nothing but dead or decaying things. The ground and the air were cold, and her body wouldn't move even if she wanted it to. A small cylinder, rusted and filled with holes, soared through the air and landed in front of her as something let out a scream that echoed from somewhere close. The femme couldn't see where or what made that sound around the spire of death, blocking her vision. "Get a grip! You are a Decepticon huntress!" She thought, "You cause fear you don't feel..eep!" Shatter mentally cried out as the sound of crunching frost and gravel reached her audio receptors. A shadow fell across the ground as the grinding, crunching noise of footsteps drew closer to her. 

It was a demon, she thought. Some monster from the Pit had come to claim her spark and feed it to Unicron or put her through one agony after another until the demon had its fill of fun. A rattle went through her vehicular frame. She was trapped. "I can't transform because the Pit won't let me. Primus! Help me!" Then, she saw the monster as it cleared the tower of death. Fear and panic were almost instantly replaced by anger. The thing that had screamed that had approached her was no demonic manifestation of the Chaos Bringer but a human. A simple, primitive, disgusting organic lifeform. That anger helped focus her mind on where she really was. This wasn't the Pit; this was indeed Earth. The huntress had not lost her spark nor her sanity. Unicron was not playing tricks on her, and she most certainly was not dead. The radio signals she had picked up were earth frequencies. On the one hand, she was thankful this primitive lifeform had shown himself because it had calmed her; on the other, she hated him because of the fear she had just gotten over. "How dare this pathetic creature make me feel fear, "she thought.

The xenobiological data Soundwave had given her was not quite complete on the various earth species. The expedition to Earth had come late and had been called off due to the civil war. The scientists had been able to catalog a vast number of species, humans among them. This male was the first of his kind the femme had seen. Her sensors swept over his body to observe him. The armor he wore looked to be of poor quality. She could detect only the barest hints of an electric field around him. If that armor did anything, it either had to be activated; or it wasn't even armor. Shatter considered it for a moment before turning her visual sensors to the human's exposed head. Short, well-trimmed hair adored his squared jaw. Another strip of hair enclosed the lips of his heavy mouth, and the dome was covered in short, well-trimmed hair as well. Some Cybtertronians had features similar to the earth man's facial hair, but never a full head.

Green optics looked at her in a way that made the huntress slightly uncomfortable. They were unlike anything she had seen and were unsettling in their alien nature. Optics were supposed to glow with life from one's spark. But the optics of this creature were dull even though the organic was clearly alive. His lips opened in a broad smile revealing off-white teeth that revolted her. The most unusual feature of the organic was the broad, almost blunt protrusion between his eyes. Shatter began to wonder what function it served when the human moved.

The male stepped closer to her, and Shatter wanted to balk at the audacity of him. He touched her! The filthy thing had put his grubby little paws on her body! "How dare he!" She thought. Since the huntress was in her right mind and knew for a fact she was on Earth, she couldn't just transform and kill this vermin; she had to keep her cover and endure whatever perversion this pest would submit her to. 

"Beautiful." The word came from the mouth of the earthling, and she had to wonder just what was going through his primitive little brain. Those hands were coated in some kind of natural oil, rubbed along her fender, and the huntress had to stop herself from shuddering. She hated the way that felt. That subtle squeaky feeling of his oily digits touching, rubbing, and caressing her with an almost reverence and awe. The earthman brushed off the ice from her body, allowing for more of the sun to hit her. "Ok, earth man, "she thought, "I will thank you for that before I kill you." He commented about her color scheme and wanted to ask just what was wrong with it before he asked if she had been in a war zone. "As if you know what one looks like, you little pest." Shatter thought. His hands were still on her! He wouldn't stop touching her body. The huntress had to shut off her voice modulator to contain a moan as he rubbed over the fin of her trunk. Her spark was burning with indignation and anger at the perversion being thrust upon her.

The organic vermin moved around her and grabbed the handle of her door. "Oh, no, you do not earthling!." Shatter said mentally as the door cracked open. She fought to keep it closed, but the frost and the remaining sluggishness of stasis lock kept her from fighting his desire off and the disgusting little organic was inside of her! He. Was. Inside! The femme was mortified and wanted to crush his body then and there and see what his insides looked like. Then again, she didn't want his squishy meat parts staining her like that. A shiver ran through her body, and a silent moan rang out as the human touched her steering wheel and then her dashboard. By Primus, no one had ever touched her like this! The delicate way his fingers moved along her interior, the reverence, the awe in his voice, and his touch made her spark flutter. This was wrong, she thought. It was wrong, perverted, disgusting, and just unnatural. The Senate would have a field day if they ever caught wind of something like this, and what would Megatron think?

Shattered turned her visual sensors inward to get a better look at the human. His armor was bizarre. The parts that made up his organic form were clearly seen by the pale, slightly pinkish skin. His chest plating looked rumpled, and against her seat, it felt folded like molten metal. It wouldn't stop any form of attack. His leg plating was no better either and felt even softer than his torso armor. What kind of idiots were these humans to be so exposed, she wondered. Maybe, she thought, they were simply so arrogant that their armor was for show and nothing else. "Well, "a bitter, angry internal voice said, "once the Decepticons come, you organics will pay for that ignorance." The human stroked her steering wheel one more time, made some comment about the material of her insides, and then, thank Primus, he was out of her and running off back the way he had come

The huntress had never felt so angry in her life. The indignity of it all, the sheer wrongness of having that earth man touch her, rub her, and even get inside of her, was almost too much. Shatter was a good soldier, and she would follow her orders. The first chance she had, the huntress would get away, but not before killing that human. By the Allspark, she would strip the skin from his body. Her spark pulsed as a shudder moved through her transformed frame again. Somewhere, deep in her spark and in her neural net that the femme would never acknowledge, she had liked the way the organic touched her. Not just the touch of his skin, but the reverence, gentleness, and awe in his touch, but she would die before admitting that.

As her anger cooled, Shatter began to focus her mind on the task at hand. She knew where she was, but not how much time had passed. The huntress thought about her situation and what needed to be done to correct it. Three objectives came to the top of the list. First, she needed to get medical help and have the shrapnel removed. The second was finding a source of energon. That would likely be the easiest step. Finally, Shatter needed to send a message for any remaining Decepticons to set a course for planet Earth. With some clear goals in mind, the huntress began to feel better. Now, all that was left to do was find out how to get each one taken care of. Her thoughts were interrupted as a rumble reached her audio receptors and a loud "beeping" noise filled the corridor of death in front of her

A shadow fell on the ground again, and the earthling who had touched her was back. This time he was walking backward, waving his hands as if directing something. The tail end of an earth vehicle came into view and then stopped after getting closer to her. Shatter knew what this vehicle was; a tow truck. The earthlings had a tow truck! Her neural net was taken aback with an amused wonderment about that revelation. How, she wondered, did these primitives come up with such an idea? "Or for that matter, "she thought, how do I know that earthling is a mech?" Mechs were the males of her species, and the huntress had to seriously wonder how she knew this when there was no available data on the earthlings' dimorphism. Shatter heard a second set of feet hit the ground and a huffing voice and saw her second earthling.

Mentally she scowled at the smaller man with a bulging torso, flabby arms, and a sickeningly round face. The femme knew she was about to be loaded up, and if she had to be taken out of this Primus forsaken place, she at least wanted to go with the taller, more visually appealing organic. The two of them started talking, and she noticed they had wildly different accents.

"See, I told you the third aisle was where I kept the good stuff. "The fat one said.

"Da, "replied the more attractive one, "you were right. How did you come across this car?"

"Oh," the short man laughed a little, "a bit of a story with that. This Mustang has changed hands a few times, and no one's quite sure why." He chuckled again as he waddled to the controls of the bed and tilted it up. He continued once the noise had died down. "I think the car was just waiting for the right owner, and I thought I knew just the man when it came across my radar." Shatter noticed the taller human looking at her, his hands stuffed inside his armor, and she wasn't sure how to feel about the look on his face. Nor the idea that he would think she was now his property. He would be in for a shock, and soon, she thought. "So," the fat man said as he grabbed a length of chain, "glad you came out today, Leo?"

"Da." Leo softly said as he stepped up and put his hand on her body just above her headlight. The absolute PERVERSION thought Shatter, but there was nothing she could do. Primus, that disgusting hand was on her again, but it was so gentle she wasn't sure how to feel about it, other than disgusted. "She is a little beat up right now, but I am going to give her all the love and care she needs, and I am going to make her radiant again." Bold words, thought the Decepticon, from a primitive. A chain was hooked to her undercarriage, and the femme was hauled out of the corner near the fence and pulled up onto the back of the tow truck. Shatter ignored the fat human and looked at the one called Leo as the realization of his words hit her.

SHE?! Did he know what she actually was? Had this primitive creature actually figured out she was a robot in disguise? These thoughts raced through her mind, along with dozens of others that were too quick to grasp fully. Her visual sensors focused on his face. The soft smile on his lips, the way his eyes seemed to glow with an alien warmth as he looked at her. As the tow truck began to pull away, the femme had wondered to Primus what was in store for her. And in the depths of her spark, the feel of his touch lingered.


	3. More Than Meets the Eye

  
  
Planet: Earth

Location: Northern New England, the White Mountains

The Decepticon femme slightly groaned as she rocked and bounced on the bed of the tow truck. Chains that secured her onto the truck bed clanked and rattled as the primitive vehicle rolled down a stretch of road. While she understood the need for the chains, the huntress felt a deep sense of humiliation. "If these flesh bags knew just what I was…" her mind turned to the scenery passing by to keep from thinking about the indignity of her situation. Trees lined both sides of the four-lane pavement as white-coated mountains loomed in the distance. Behind her, the human called Leo was following in a pickup which insulted the huntress' sensibilities just by existing. She recalled the first reaction about the earth in space, and her feeling was only reinforced.

"What an utterly underwhelming planet." Shatter thought coldly as her sensors swept over the landscape that sped by. She grunted in pain as the truck hit a bump in the road, causing her to bounce hard on the tow truck's bed. While transformed, she didn't have to worry about leaking to death, but the pain of her critical injury had not gone away. "Primus, I hate this world." She cursed to herself and tried to focus on something other than the bumpy and uncomfortable ride. Shatter had no idea where she was going or how long it would take to get there. She could only hope that her terrible experience would be over soon. "Earthlings," the huntress remarked mentally as more cars filled the roadway, "what a despicable species." How, she wondered, did these backward, primitive, minuscule organics even manage to survive at all?

Humanity was not the first organic species Shatter had come across. In the long cycles before the war on Cybertron, the planet's warriors had been busy expanding and colonizing. The femme had never liked organics; they were all too frail and soft for her liking. "But," she thought, "at least those species were more advanced than humans.". From what the femme could tell, the earthlings had only the most rudimentary grasp of space flight. They didn't even have anti-gravity technology. "Truly," she mused," they are a worthless, primitive species." The only thing interesting about them, to Shatter, were the earthlings' vehicles which were driving alongside her. The femme was amazed at the similarity to Cybertronian alternate modes. They lacked the elegant lines or advanced features of her homeworld and were all primitive and blocky, but Shatter could tell on sight the function of each earth car. Curiosity about her earth-based alternate mode finally got the better of her, and Shatter pulled up a mental schematic of her new form. "Well," she thought, "I could have done worse." A worn, rusted car came chugging down the opposite side of the road, which made the femme cringe with disgust. "Much worse." She studied her alt mode for a moment and thought about what Leo had said on seeing her. Shatter concluded that the form was as good as she was going to get. While it lacked the elegance or sophistication of her Cybertronian form, she still classified it as sleek, sexy, and powerful. However, a part of her spark hurt to look at it. Taking this mode, even if it had saved her life, she had been forced to give up her Cybertronian form and, in doing so, lost another part of her home. Still, the femme gave a mental nod of approval for her new vehicle mode and flipped on a passive scan for energon. She hoped and prayed to Primus that her search would be over quickly in such an energon rich world.

Something large and yellow came rolling towards her on the other side of the road. Shatter tried to classify what it might be, but nothing on Cybertron looked like that giant, ugly, yellow thing. As it passed, the huntress marveled that there were several tiny humanoids inside of the machine. It was a transport craft, but where it was going and why it was filled with small earthling vermin was beyond the femme. For a moment, she wondered how the tiny flesh bags were made, then decided it wasn't worth considering. There were simply more of the fleshlings which annoyed her. Every passing micro-cycle, this planet became a more significant irritation to the Deception warrior.

Her spark fluttered as the realization hit her. The huntress still didn't know where she was on this Primus' forsaken rock, nor how many cycles she had been in stasis. A sense of unease and paranoia began to gnaw at her.

"What if other Autobots followed that delusional hero, Silverbolt? Does my mission matter anymore? Did the General fall to the Autobots?" She mentally asked herself. Was she alone on this planet, as the only living Cybertronian, or were there others? And, she pondered, if there were others, were they Decepticons or the enemy? The huntress had no way of telling and felt a reluctant gladness for the rough, bumpy, primitive truck she was on. No Autobot would think to look twice at her - damaged, bound, and hauled around by the earth pests made for convincing, though humiliating, camouflage. For now, Shatter could only assume that she was alone. 

"Alone." The word rang bitter and hollow even with her mental voice." Are there any Decepticons left?" She asked herself, knowing there was no answer. There was no one and nothing she valued here on earth. The long drive allowed her mind to wander in thought to cycles long past. Dropkick, the mech she had pair-bonded with, came to her mind. For cycles, she had avoided thinking about him. He was a triple-changer like herself, which made a partnership between them a logical decision. The mech had been a brute and a bruiser, even among Decepticons, who loved a good fight or testing out the tech division's latest weapons. He had also been an excellent partner with a code of honor she had never seen him break. The warrior had been one of the few to earn her respect and, eventually, much more than that. But even that had been taken from her before the revolution had really taken off. Dropkick had been shot down in a fit of jealous rage by someone with heroic delusions. "All I have now is my mission, if that even matters, and a human who thinks he owns me and can't keep his hands to himself." The femme had to turn her mind to something, anything else to stop her current train of thought. She had to stop thinking about the past or about Leo and the lingering feel of his touch on her metal skin. In an attempt to distract herself, the huntress decided to see what she could learn by the human's radio transmissions and turned her short-wave radio sense back on.

Controlling her interior radio dial, Shatter began to scan the frequencies she could pick up slowly. The femme found it frustrating that the humans had mastered nothing but such simple radio transmissions. Their lack of more sophisticated communications would make reaching out to her scattered comrades harder, but it would also make detecting her more difficult. It was a frustrating blessing. Shatter started tuning through the FM band with a mental sigh and found nothing but humans talking or melodic noise on each frequency.

"This must be earthling's music. How detestable." She scrolled past some group singing about "California Girls," whatever they were, only to stop as fast, heavy riffs and drums hit her audio receptors and all but tuned the rough ride and gnawing concern. The sounds just seemed to move so fluidly through her frame that the femme smiled with actual enjoyment. The song ended as the tow truck turned off the main road onto a dirt road. A smooth, confident voice crackling with energy came on at the end of the music.

"Hot damn, that was the new single 'Live Wire' by Mötley Crüe, and I'm your DJ for the day, Sasquatch. Coming up, I've got a double shot of Judas Priest with 'You've Got Another Thing Coming' and 'Electric Eye. Remember folks, metal will never die." The femme found some ironic amusement with those words. The natives must call that music "metal," and, she had to admit, it had a heavy feel to it.

Shatter was transfixed by the music and wanted more, but as the tow truck slowed down and made a turn onto a gently sloping hill, she frustratingly had to turn her radio off so as not to break her disguise. If music was the only thing this species had in their favor, it wasn't much. The metal was enjoyable to listen to, but Shatter dismissed it as some frivolous distraction; her mind was now turned to other matters. Something told the huntress they had arrived. As she crested the hill, the femme sighed with relief. Her scanner picked up a large deposit of energon not far from the buildings at the center of the land. The tow truck began to turn around and back up to the larger of the two buildings. Though, as Shatter inspected it closer, it appeared that two structures were joined. The largest of them was a robust building, made from wood which she could hear creak slightly in the wind, and it was tall enough for her to stand up in; and possibly even for her to fully stretch out and lay down. The smaller connected edifice was made from stone with a block of square-shaped rocks sticking from the roof. "This must be where the human Leo lives." She thought. Both buildings were an offensive sight in how primitive and lacking in the sophistication she was accustomed to on Cybertron. Even the military outposts during the Civil War were of higher quality than this. "But, it's not that horrid scrapyard." She commented in her mind.

The other building, Shatter concluded, must be a storage facility or a primitive hangar. The femme turned her visual sensors to the rest of the land as the truck backed up. Thick trees surrounded the property while the ground leading up the forest was covered in the same white blanket everything else had over it, but it appeared flat. The dirt road they had turned onto to reach these structures was obscured from this height. The property was secluded, quiet, and a vital resource was close at hand. Shatter relaxed slightly. This place was secure or could be easily secured. Unless someone was actively looking for the huntress, she would be difficult to find here, and it wasn't that graveyard of metal and scrap.

Leo's eyesore of a truck followed and came to a stop next to the tow truck. He hopped out and flashed a bright smile at Shatter. The femme had to wonder if he had any clue just what she actually was. Surely not, she thought. As far as she could tell, these creatures were only in the most basic, primitive stages of technological advancement. She wondered if they even knew how to split the atom. The femme concluded that he couldn't discern her true nature. Her mind was taken to more pressing matters as the bed began to tilt upward. The disgusting, plumper earthling waddled over and started to get her ready to be unloaded as Leo slid the large door of the robust structure open. The two worked to get her pushed from the lifted bed and into the surprisingly warm shelter.

"Ugh." She thought. "They are both touching me." Shatter suppressed a shiver of revulsion as their hands were on her grill while they pushed her backward. "At least the round one has something covering his disgusting hands." Leo's hands were naked and rubbed on her hood and just above her headlight. She realized now that his hands were warm and rough in a few places. They had a unique texture to them. "But by Primus, will you ever stop pawing me?" She mentally cursed at him. After coming to a gentle stop, Leo quickly stepped to the side and grabbed a block of wood to prop it under her tire. Then, the two males stepped outside and shared words. She ignored them to examine the shelter around her instead. It smelled of oil, fresh oil, with hints of metal and light rust, while a subtle smokey scent lingered over everything. Primitive tools were hung and neatly arranged along a wall over a workbench, and several metal boxes were stationed near that bench. The other wall had what, to Shatter, looked like some relaxation area with chairs and a minuscule, from her sense of scale, shelf with various items on it. The rest of the structure was rather barren aside from some odds and ends. But it was neat, tidy, and most of all, out of the elements. 

"If this belonged to anyone else, I might be worried." Shatter thought, but to her surprise, she was able slightly to relax. While the setting around her could carry a very nasty implication, that this human had bought her to cannibalize her for parts, the femme didn't feel alarmed. As a huntress, she had a broad scope of knowledge of which death and malice were supreme, But she detected none of those in the human, Leo. His touch had been too gentle, too kind. He laid hands on her body with an almost reverent application. Those dull green eyes looked at her with awe and admiration. Then, there were his words. He didn't want to do anything but fix her. As he had said, he was "going to make her radiant." Shatter also remembered the slight concern in his tone when he had examined her in that frightful, awful scrapyard. While the femme had no intentions of fully trusting Leo with anything about her true self or mission, she felt confident he could be trusted not to dismantle her. But, if the human showed any intention of harming her, she could easily turn him into a stain on the floor. The femme turned her visual sensors out to Leo, watching him interact with the plump one, and waited.

Leo smiled behind the wheel of his truck as he followed Chuck to his home. Black Sabbath was playing from his radio, but it was background noise right now. His eyes were mostly, apart from checking the road, fixed on the tail end of the GT Mustang sitting on the back of Chuck's tow truck. The big Russian felt a joy welling up in him that had long been absent from his life. Leo winced when the lead vehicle hit the bump as his new baby bounced roughly on the back of the tow truck. He winced again as he went over the frost heave. While it was only late October, winter had come early to the White Mountains and had come with a heavy frost. The roads were paying the price with frost heaves everywhere.

" I hope that suspension is ok; that was a big bump." He said to himself and then held his breath slightly, watching the Mustang shake back and forth. For a moment, he was worried something was about to break and fall off due to the impact. When nothing happened, he released his breath and shook his head. "Well, I need to look at those shocks pretty quickly. No telling how worn out they are." The final notes of music died out from the radio's tape deck, and the player's click finally made him pay attention to it. He ejected the cassette with a slight frown and tossed it aside. "I am glad John's daughter likes it, but it is not to my taste." He checked the road and the Mustang and then reached for a collection of cassettes in his truck's center console. He grabbed one and popped it in. As the twang of a Hank Williams song began to play, he smiled. The American music scene was vast. He had learned that very quickly after arriving in the country, but what the Americans called "Country-Western" struck a chord in him. It was folksy, straightforward, down to earth, and almost always had a hint of melancholy to the music and lyrics. "Let the young people have their pop music and rock and roll, "he chuckled as he talked, "I will stick with Nashville."

He tapped his finger slightly to the beat of the music and turned his eyes again to the softly rolling, bouncing tail end of the Ford Mustang GT Cobra 500. This was a dream come true for him, and Chuck had been very fair with the price. Leo knew she would need a lot of work, but he was eager for the project. He could not be happier. "Let me think," he began, "first thing when I get home, I will call Daniel and order some new rims and tires. Then I need to look under the hood, see what needs to be done there." He laughed softly. "I may get to rebuild her entire engine!" The excitement of the work ahead made him feel almost giddy. "After that, the brakes and hell, the entire suspension needs to be looked at, then her transmission." He bit on the inside of his cheek for a moment. "I'll need to flush everything and give her fresh fluids." The Russian smiled, feeling like a schoolboy with the project ahead of him. He followed Chuck down the dirt road leading to his home, and the excitement only grew as they both began to climb the hill to his house.

The house had been a gift from the American government for the defector. As a former Soviet engineer, the United States thought it would be good to provide a nice, secluded place, just in case. Of course, the Americans had omitted that the house and barn were in dire need of renovation. Thankfully, the job they had also helped him get with a private-sector contractor had helped him afford the repairs that needed to be done; and fully convert the barn into a workshop and garage. He looked at his watch as he came to a stop next to the tow truck. This adventure had started at eight o'clock, and it was just past ten in the morning. "Perfect," he thought, "I have all day to open her up and inventory everything that I need to work on." Leo got out of his truck and looked up, admiring the Mustang as Chuck began to tilt the truck bed upwards. The car was beaten up, damaged, and in need of lots of love and care, and he planned on pouring his heart into the work to fix his new baby up." I'm going to make you like new." He thought.

After he helped push the car into the warm garage and put a wheel stop to keep her from rolling away, he stepped out into the cool morning air with Chuck and clasped his gloved hand.

"I cannot thank you enough, Chuck," Leo said with a broad smile.

"Ah, don't worry about it, Leo. You've been asking for a while if I had any muscle cars come my way. As soon as I saw that car up for auction, I said to myself, 'I know the perfect man for it." Chuck responded with a gentle laugh in his voice. "It helped that I've learned a thing or two about you."

The older man gave a warm smile as he continued." You know, "his voice became gentle," I was starting to think you were missing something, Leo. "Chuck turned his head to the Mustang." A man just hitting thirty shouldn't look like that. That car, well, it's not a woman. Lord knows you could do with a good one, but," he looked back at the Russian, "I think it's going to keep you occupied for a while. "He chuckled, "and maybe that's gonna help you not look so damn miserable all the time, my friend."

Leo just smiled and felt tears sting his eyes. Chuck was a good man, one of the best. The big Russian clapped him on the shoulder and nodded. "The next time you see this car, "he tilted his head to the garage, "you are going to think she was fresh from the assembly line." The two men laughed and then said their goodbyes. While Chuck climbed back into the tow truck and drove away, Leo walked into the garage. He stood there, looking at the Mustang, and reached out to gently pat her hood. His hand moved slowly down the center of the hood and lightly stroked the interesting ornament embedded there. "Hm, looks like a face, with a crown. Interesting." He remarked and then patted her side fender as he moved to the workbench. Picking up the phone placed there, he dialed a number and waited.

"Daniel, "he said, "Yes, it is the Russian car man." Leo laughed a little. "Listen, I need some tires and new rims." He rattled off the rim and tire size to the man on the phone. "Do you think they could be delivered today before the storm hits?" He smiled, "Wonderful! How much? Excellent, I will have a check ready for Dennis." He hung the receiver up and nodded. "That takes care of one issue." Leo turned to look outside. It was cool, but not bitterly so, and the fresh air did the garage some good. His new car, as much as he loved her already, had the smell of a junkyard about her.

Leo began to softy hum the tune of _Katusha_ , a favorite of his grandfather, while he moved around the back of his soon-to-be beautiful car. His hand trailed over the fin lightly as he got to the driver's side door. He opened it and frowned a little. "Hm, there is still some resistance." He muttered, "probably rusted hinges. I will get that smoothed out soon." He reached down, grabbed the hood release, and smiled as he heard it pop open. He closed the door and walked to the front. Just as he reached his hands under the hood for the release latch, his entire world changed.

Shatter was glad to see the waddling human climb back into the tow truck and drive away. That meant there was one less human to irritate her. She locked her visual sensors on Leo, wary of what he might do. She mentally readied herself as he stepped in front of her and patted her hood. "Primus," she mentally growled, "why do you keep…" her thoughts were instantly cut off as she had to suppress a gasp. The Decepticon symbol on her hood was very sensitive to touch, and the human was acting as if rubbing it was something casual! Her spark burned inside of her chamber as his disgusting digit traced the lines of the insignia. She had to turn her voice modulator off, again, to keep from making any audible noise. This was just too much. It had been stellar cycles since the emblem had been caressed, and out of all the perversions the universe could put her through, it had to be a human! The sensation of his finger on that spot slowly faded as he moved away and traced his hand along her fender. "What is it with this human stroking me all the damn time?!" Shatter wondered with a bitter fluster of emotions rushing through her.

Thankful for the small bliss of his hands no longer on her when he walked to the bench, she turned her audio receptors towards the human as he picked up some kind of device and put it to his head. She hoped it would blow his head off but was sorely disappointed when there was no shower of gore, only Leo talking. The huntress realized he was talking to someone and smiled at herself. "Fool, you just revealed a communication device." She thought with a sense of satisfaction. All she needed now was to figure out the range of the device, and she might be able to send a signal from here. "A secluded area with a large energon deposit and communications? Primus, if my mission will be over in a few cycles, then putting up with this, "her thoughts paused as she watched Leo with a side mirror, "degenerate will be worth it." Happy about the possible turn around, the femme almost didn't mind when Leo walked behind her and traced his fleshy, slightly rough fingers over the fin of her trunk. Shatter held in a shiver and was thankful she had the good sense to turn her voice modulator off. Otherwise, the human might have heard the soft groan she let out.

"Primus," she moaned softly in her mind, "why does his touch make me feel this way? It's disgusting! It's wrong!" Shatter told herself. "It's an abomination that this creature, this pathetic, worthless vermin, can cause such a reaction in me." Briefly, she wondered if it was merely a case of not having felt any intimate contact in so long. And Leo's touch was intimate, more than Dropkick's had ever been. The feel of his hands was so gentle, so full of admiration and reverence. The tiny fingers of the earth man were capable of caressing her body in ways her pair-bond had never been able to. Shatter hated it, yet some deep part of her reveled in the glory of these sensations. The femme's mind was distracted as Leo wrapped his soft, warm hand around the handle of her door. She didn't realize what he was doing until the door began to open.

Her wound and low energon levels allowed the human to open her door. She tried to convince herself that was the reason he could overpower her; she refused to admit anything else. The last thing Shatter was expecting was Leo being able to pop her hood ajar. She wasn't even aware such a control option existed in her alt form until now. Panic swept through her as the earthling moved in front of her and slipped his hands under her hood. In an instant, her mission, the need for cover and concealment was forgotten. A mix of anger and embarrassment boiled up from her spark to flood her systems. This was one indignity she would not let stand. The huntress pulled back from him and transformed, revealing her true form to the now tiny human male. Her lips turned into a severe scowl as her eyes narrowed. The human, she noted with satisfaction, looked up at her in terror. Without realizing it, she had covered her chest with one arm as a finger on the opposite hand stabbed towards him.

"You filthy, disgusting, rotten, worthless little…" Shatter had begun to berate the human for his perversions, angry she had even felt a hint of enjoyment when a sound came to her audio receptors. The antenna on the right of her helm rotated up quickly, and the human was forgotten. Jet engines, loud, roaring, and heavy, came echoing into the garage. Stepping over Leo, her arm changed into the heavy autocannon as she stopped at the entrance. A tactical display overlaid her vision while she scanned the sky. The huntress was ready for another Autobot flier to come swooping in to finish the job Silverbolt had failed to complete. The surge of anger and battle readiness faded as the roaring of the engines began to grow dim. Shatter gasped as pain flared in her side. Her normal hand quickly pressed to the wound as she dropped to a knee. "Scrap!" She cursed out loud. In her anger and shame, she had forgotten about the shrapnel; she was going to die in the garage of a human degenerate. A noise coming from Leo made her turn, slowly, to face him, and level her gun at him. The barrel was large enough that his chest, and head, would be blown away with a single shot. She may die here but not before having a final satisfaction.

Leo let out a yelp and fell backward as the very ordinary Mustang moved. The car didn't just move; it changed. He watched in wide-eyed wonder and fear as the transformation took place. The fenders, tires, doors, and hood all shifted in a dizzying array of motion that he could barely track. In the span of a few quickened heartbeats, what had once been a simple Ford muscle car, was now a nearly eighteen-foot-tall robot. And she was glaring down at him with murderous intent. Leo blinked as she began to scold him. He broke out into a panicked sweat, looking up at her. Nothing made sense. How had his dream car suddenly turned into this giant machine glaring down at him? 

He noticed something distracted her and watched as an antenna popped up like a rabbit's ear would do. Trying to slow down his breathing, he focused on hearing something other than his heart's thundering and caught the roar of distant jet engines. The robot moved over him and got to the garage door in two steps. Leo shifted and got off his ass to sit on his hands and knees to watch the right arm change into something else. Slowly, while her attention was on something outside, he stood up. His legs shook, and his breath came in shuddering, soft, ragged pants. "By God, "he thought, "what in the hell is this? What in God's name is going on?" A sudden cry of pain from her caused his eyes to snap to her head and then to the side where her hand quickly pressed to. A bright, blue-white liquid was slowly leaking from her torso. Swallowing, trying to calm himself, he stood all the way and took a step forward.

Leo's legs almost rebelled against him as his mind refused to get any closer to the massive, menacing machine in his garage. When she dropped to a knee, clearly in pain, something in him clicked, and he moved closer and cleared his throat. The robot turned on him and pointed, what he could now see was a gun, a massive gun, right at him. That murderous scowl she had before the distraction of the jet engines had returned. Leo shuddered involuntarily and tried to look past the barrel into glaring, glowing red eyes.


	4. Close Encounter

Planet: Earth

Location: Northern New England, The White Mountans

Leo swallowed, trying to get some moisture into the desert that his mouth had become. Inches from his body the single largest barrel of a gun he had ever seen. It was close enough he could make out the rifling lines of the interior. The barrel’s bottom was level with his stomach while the top stopped just short of his nose. Thunder rumbled in his ears from blood being pumped by a heart so charged with adrenaline he felt it thumping against his sternum. Glowing red eyes set into an almost enraged face glared down at him. The Russian knew that one wrong move and this giant machine would kill him without a second thought in her mechanical mind.

“What do you want, human?”

Leo’s eyes were quick to focus on the head and mouth that had spoken. Her voice was deep, mechanical, but also held a sultry quality that, even while panicked, he could detect. With a fight, he managed to slow his breathing down to think about how to answer that question. Slowly, as the pounding in his head began to grow quiet, another sound reached him—a slow, steady tapping noise. Gingerly, Leo took a step back and was relieved that the massive cannon didn’t follow him or blow him to bits. Quickly his eyes looked for the source of the sound and noticed a thick, blue-white liquid dripping onto the floor from her side. A small puddle had formed even though, he noted, the robot’s hand was pressed firmly against her wound. Clearing his voice, he looked back into that scowling face.

“I, “ his voice cracked, and he coughed, before trying again, “I might be able to help with that.” He motioned to the leaking side of the red and black colored machine. The look on her face changed from anger to amusement. Mocking but pained, laughter erupted from the giant robot for a moment before she looked at him again.

“You?” Leo could hear the absolute dismissal in her tone. “And just what could a lowly, filthy little pest like you do to help me, human?” The last word was spoken with such vehement derision that, for a moment, Leo’s fear faded into the background. It was bad enough, he thought, having to deal with that attitude daily from his coworkers; he was going to be damned if he put up with it in his own home. Drawing himself up, he hooked his thumbs into his belt, widened his stance, and fixed the machine woman with what he hoped was a defiant and highly annoyed glare; because, by God, he was sick of it.

“Listen, robot. You are leaking all over my garage, and you do not seem to be in very good shape.” Even to his ears, the confident voice he used surprised him. “So, the way I see it, you have two choices. You can leak out all over the place and shut down, or you can let me try and help you. What’s the worst that will happen, robot, “ he planted a smirk on his face and let that carry into his voice, “a lowly little pest manages to help you?” Sweat trickled down the back of his neck as he held the still angry and slightly amused gaze of the giant female. That little show of bravado would either turn him into a gooey paste or give him a chance every engineer dreamed about and not get killed by an angry machine.

The giantess let out a soft chuckle as her arm swiftly shifted back into a hand as she moved, slowly while nursing her side, to sit against the wall of his garage. Her expression was of warry reluctance as she watched him.

“Do you even have any clue what you are doing?” He heard her ask him. To be honest, he had no clue, but he had faked this much bravado in front of her, so he may as well keep it up.

“I have never seen anything like you, so no. But, the army trained me in basic first aid and,“ he motioned with one softly trembling hand to the collection of tools at his primary workbench, “I know a thing or two about being a mechanic.” Leo watched as she seemed to relax, barely, and he felt an incredible amount of tension rush from his body. He took a moment and a few deep breaths. Cold air rushed into the garage, helping to clear and focus his mind. At the corner of his eye, he saw the machine shudder and let out a soft groan. Winter wind on an open wound was likely uncomfortable. Leo considered that as he went to the large open door. He stopped and briefly looked out to his truck. He frowned, suddenly angry with himself. “No.” The word came to his mind like granite. He wasn’t going to run away, not from this. Latching the door after it shut, he quickly went to the workbench and grabbed a flashlight before going back over to her.

In that time, the giantess has pulled her hand from the injured side. He noticed that her charcoal-colored hand was stained with the blue-white fluid. Leo stepped up to her side and turned on the flashlight. The liquid oozing from her brought to his mind cold motor oil with how thick it appeared. The wound was coated with the oddly colored liquid. The injury itself was about two feet wide and twice that in length. He would be able to get both of his arms in there if he needed to. Gently Leo placed his hand just above the narrowest part of the wound and shone the light into the giant machine’s dark interior.

Leo’s breath caught in his chest for a moment. He was looking at something truly alien. There were parts of her innards he thought he recognized like gears or springs, but the way everything was put together reminded him of something organic, less like a car in for repairs and more like someone needing surgery. What little he could see of her exposed insides didn’t just move with a nearly flawless mechanical precision; they pulsed with life. There was a rhythm he could faintly detect about what he could see. The only thing that brought him back to the task at hand was a soft groan from the female machine.

“Are you done gawking yet, human?” There was something in her tone he couldn’t quite place. Shame or embarrassment? No, that wasn’t possible, he thought. What did she have to be embarrassed about? “Just tell me what you find.” Focusing back on his task, he swept the beam of light slowly along the wound until he found what the problem was. He didn’t need to be a genius or have an in-depth understanding of her construction to see the issue. A shard of metal almost twelve inches wide and just about half of that in height was stabbing his patient. It was covered in the leaking fluid, and from the puncture point, it was seeping out as a bright, almost pure white substance. Leo had no clue how deep the shard was inside her, but the stab wound was probably about four inches long. He stepped back and relayed up to the metal woman what he had found. Her eyes closed as he waited.

Only a few seconds had passed before her eyes, Leo noticed, spiraled open like the shutter of a camera. “It’s not near any critical systems, so hurry up and pull it out.” The command was almost barked at him, but he ignored the tone of her voice. Leaning back down to look inside her, he reached in and, as gently as he could, tested the tightness of the shard. The giantess grunted loudly, causing him to step back. He clicked the flashlight off and thought for a moment—a list of tools rapidly formed in his mind.

Leo dropped the flashlight off at the workbench and then grabbed an extended power cord and a standing work lamp. After setting that up near the female and testing the angle of the light, he ran across the length of the garage and rushed back with two buckets. One was filled with clean cloth work towels, and the other was empty. Setting those down, he grabbed two more items: a pair of heavy leather gloves and the single greatest ally of any workman with a garage; a can of WD-40 spray lubricant.

“Ok, “ he said, trying to sound more confident than he felt.”This is likely going to hurt a lot, and I am sorry for that.” He gently told her as he stepped up to her again. A grunt was the only response he got as he shook the can of WD-40. The liberal application was met with a hissing noise from the patient, Leo wasn’t sure if this was safe, but he had to loosen up that piece of metal somehow. As it sat, he slipped his hands into the work gloves and took a slow, slightly ragged breath. “Alright,” he said as he reached inside of her and gripped the shard, “when I count to three, I will pull.”

“Just hurry it up, human.” He could understand the irritation in her voice. She was in pain, he told himself, which was enough to put anyone on edge. The fluid-coated metal squelched a little as he gripped it, and he braced his feet.

“Now, one, “he started the count and noticed that the metal of her body seemed to tighten in reflex, “two, “the muscles in his arms, hands, shoulders, and legs went taught, “three!” Leo pulled at the metal with all of his might. A high-pitched electronic-sounding scream mixing with concrete being ground deafened him as he pulled. A grunt of effort became a roar of will as the shard began to pull loose. Hot liquid gushed out and spilled over his arms, and filled his gloves as he pulled. Leo planted his feet, turned his hips, and with a final effort, the shard slipped free and sent him stumbling backward to land flat on his back. The shrapnel went skidding across the ground to stop at the wall. For a heartbeat, Leo lay on the ground as his ears rang from the terrible noise. Then, he sat up quickly and looked at his “patient.”

The giantess was slumped over, limp, and her eyes were closed. The blue-white liquid was spilling out of her like a broken pipe. Leo was on his feet in an instant. “Shit!” He swore. “Shit shit shit!” Leo grabbed one glove with his teeth, absently noticing the coated leather tasted like mint, and pulled it off before ripping the other glove off with his now bare hand. He grabbed several towels and began to press them firmly against the freshly opened wound. “Please live.” He pleaded loudly. “God, please do not tell me I killed her!” The cloth towels quickly got saturated with the fluid. He pulled them away, tossed them into the empty bucket with a wet thud, and grabbed more fresh ones to press against the wound. “Please, please be alive.” Leo almost held his breath as he worked to staunch the flow of liquid from her wound.

A sudden, groaning noise from the female machine made him smile and almost break out in laughter. She slightly shifted while groaning again.

“You,” he heard the weakened and now softer tone of her voice, “are a terrible medic human.” He lightly laughed while replacing the soaked rags with clean ones and tried to ignore the tingling sensation growing in his arms, hands, and fingers.

“Ah, you have a sense of humor,“ he shot back, ”this is good. And, my name is Leo.” He was a little tired of just being called “human,” and proper introductions were in order, he thought.

“I know.” Her response made him blink and crane his neck to look at her, which was difficult given their bodies' angle. “I suppose you think this earns you,” she continued with what sounded like a forced dismissive tone, “a right to be properly addressed? Fine.” A snorting sound came from her, and then she was silent for a moment before she quietly added, “My name is Shatter.”

Leo smiled slightly. He had learned her name, and the flow of the hot, nearly sticky fluid was beginning to slow down. “Well, Shatter, I am happy to meet you. Are you going to be alright now?” He was concerned for many reasons, but right now, this remarkable female robot was under his care; he wanted to be sure she would survive his rather barbaric medical skills.

“Yes,“ he heard Shatter respond after a moment of silence. “My internal repair systems are working; just keep trying to plug the energon leak for now; it should stop soon.” Before he could say anything, she said something that made him smile. “Leo.” The utterance of his name was gentle, almost a whisper, but it still made him smile. Or maybe, he thought, it sounded quiet since his ears were still ringing. Then again, she was likely just exhausted from the extraction. Finally, after nearly twenty minutes of keeping pressure on the wound and almost running out of dry towels, the flow of energon had stopped. He stepped back and looked up at her. Questions were running through his mind, and that must have reflected on his face. Shatter rolled her eyes and sighed.

“I need to go into stasis for a cycle, to recover.” Without another word, her optics closed.

Leo stepped back from the giantess that was now resting; he hoped His eyes swept across her incredible mechanical body, looking for any signs of life. The sound of his heart thundered in his still ringing ears as he strained to hear anything from the robotic lifeform. Her Mustang car mode's front tires spread out like miniature wings at the crest of her shoulders, which rotated slightly. He nearly stopped breathing as he watched, awestruck, as the front panels that were now a rounded shoulder pad shifted a little. It split at a seam, twitched, and then sealed itself back. He took a few more steps back and noticed there were signs of life in the mechanical body. Parts of the red helmet-like head rotated in half circles or made complete rotations. Pieces that would make the transmission of a car formed a solid stomach area, and they appeared to pulse in a slow rhythmic pattern.

Leo took a few deep breaths and looked over at the clock on the wall; it was only five minutes until eleven. Almost an hour had passed since his entire world had gotten turned upside down. He walked over to one of several workbenches and sat down. The Russian reached for a pipe and pouch of tobacco when he stopped. His hands were covered, up to the elbow, in the blue-white liquid that had leaked out of Shatter.

His arms felt like they were buzzing, or there were millions of ants moving under his skin. The sensation wasn’t unpleasant or painful, but it was slightly disorienting. “It feels,” he started talking to himself, “like my arms are alive. I mean, really alive.” Leo stood up and swiftly walked to the garage’s sink and grabbed the hot water valve but pulled his hand back as if he had been burned. “What in the hell?” He said, feeling equal parts of panic and amazement.

Leo swallowed and slowly touched the valve again. The metal felt abnormal under his touch. “No.” He mused out loud, “No, Bozhe moy, I can actually feel it!” He stressed the last words as two fingers slowly traced the curve of the four-pointed faucet valve. Leo began to laugh a little as each grain of metal and line where it had been molded came into sharp focus under his finger. “Amazing…” he trailed off as he turned the faucet on and slowly put his hands into the water.

Leo inhaled sharply at the sensation which was washing over his arms. He could feel the water filling his pores and cascading down his arms. His mind spun with questions as he was rooted in place just to let the water flow over his arms and hands. The gradual temperature change came with even more clarity. He could detect each second the temperature went up as hot water filled the pipe. Gingerly, almost timidly, he washed the fluid off. After shutting the water off and whipping his arms through the air, he had to keep from laughing. The sensation of wind rushing along his arms and the towel against his skin was nearly too much. With slightly trembling legs, he went back to the workbench and just sat there before looking at the clock again. Ten minutes had passed.

“God in heaven, what is happening to me?” He asked no one as he started to feel a little queasy. The sensation was beginning to feel like a strain. “It is like, her internal fluids have supercharged my sense of touch as if,“ he trailed off, trying to think of a way to say it, “the sense has become hyper-aware.” That sounded good It made sense and allowed the engineer to quantify what was happening to him. The queasy feeling began to fade as he came to grips with the alteration to his body. “Now, “he said with a shaking laugh as he reached for his pipe again, “I wonder what this feels like.”

For the next few minutes, he sat, touching everything in front of him. Leo was like a child learning about the world through touch all over again. He giggled and laughed and nearly cried in that time. Putting a name to the new feeling helped him adapt to it. By the time he finished tamping down the tobacco in the pipe and striking a match, he felt he had a handle on the situation. Slowly puffing on the pipe until a good ember was going, he waved the match quickly to snuff it. As the aromatic smoke began to cloud around him, Leo turned to look at Shatter as questions raced through his mind. Every time he felt like he had hold of a solid thought, it splintered into dozens more. He clamped his teeth on the stem of the pipe and leaned forward on the stool until something stuck. 

Leo stood up, grabbing the stool, and walked closer to the resting mechanical being. He put the seat down, sat, just out of arm’s reach, and looked at her. This time he was looking for something other than a sign of life. Inquisitive eyes began to roam over her body again.  
“How,” he whispered, “did I know that she was female? Does that word even apply here?” Gripping the pipe with a hand, he looked at her carefully, starting at her feet. Each one had two stabilizing “toes” and a smaller spike at the center of the heel. He hummed to himself in thought and worked up her leg. The thigh was shapely with precise mechanical detail, and where it joined her hip, there appeared to be an intake of some kind. “Huh, some kind of air cooling?” It was a curious feature. Leo’s eyes darted to her stomach and roamed along her torso. Her car form’s underside created a solid, narrow waist and hip while the front grill had shifted at angles and formed a clear feminine chest with the headlights marking where her breasts might be; if she had anything like those. Finally, he looked at her head, The red helm with the antenna on her right side and the sharp but smooth angles of her face. Letting out a frustrated sigh, he leaned back and tapped lips with the pipe stem.

“It has to be an instinct.” He concluded. “I mean, there are parts of her that are similar to a human female, but…” his words trailed off as he looked at her chest again and then looked at her hips and crotch. The plating over her crotch resembled a pair of panties or swimsuit bottoms. Heat began to rise in his cheeks, and he coughed. “Izvraschenets.” Pervert, he thought. “It has not been that long Leo, get a hold of yourself. How would that even work?” He cut off those thoughts before they got away from him. Shatter was an incredible discovery. She was a true marvel to behold. Every part of her body seemed to convey form and function together into one intricate design. He could almost make out every part of her Mustang car form and how it fits into her robotic form. She was stunning, radiant, magnificent, and awe-inspiring. A smile spread over his face as he just watched her sleeping, and parts of her body shifted or moved as if alive.

“Hmm,” he mused while leaning forward and stretched his hand out, and then he stopped. A cold sweat broke out along his body, and he sat down, trembling from head to foot as a terrible realization struck him. “Who built you?” He blurted the question to the slumbering metal female. He began to think about the possibilities here. “The American’s don’t have anything like this, and the Russians, no,” he was talking out loud to keep the growing sense of dread from consuming him,” The Chinese would be a laugh, this…” his words trailed off as he looked over Shatter’s body again. The moving parts, the way her insides had seemed to pulse with life. The truth of it stabbed into his brain like a knife. “She is alien.”

Saying that word made the realization of it feel all the more terrifying. The level of technology that was Shatter’s body was not only unheard of on earth; it wasn’t even a thought. He looked to the decent collection of books at the sitting area in the garage. There wasn’t a single author he could think of, either in fiction or theoretical mechanics, who had conceived of a transforming robot; at least not of this caliber. Leo looked at the mechanical giant again; and felt terror strike his soul. Two revelations came to his mind. The first was that humanity was not alone in the universe. The second was a quote from Arthur C. Clark: “There are only two possibilities; either we are alone in the universe, or we are not. Both are equally terrifying.” Somewhere, out in space, beyond the reach of his species, there was someone, or something, capable of building something like Shatter. 

Leo turned away from her and stood up. Numbly he grabbed the stood and stumbled back over to the workbench as he tried to process this new thought. Humans had always been curious about life outside of their world, going back to Nikola Tesla; even the Soviets had taken an interest about twenty years ago, and the Americans were obsessed with the idea. That idea was reality, and it was slumbering in his garage. He nearly collapsed at the workbench and held his head in his hands. “I guess Chuck was right..” He said, his voice sounding empty of emotion even to his ears. “How many of her are there? Is she the only one? A dozen? A whole planet of giant, transforming machines?” Leo was asking these questions out loud to try and keep some sense of normality in his mind. 

The Russian was facing the single most remarkable and terrifying discovery in history. Perhaps, if he had not seen the anger on her face or looked into the barrel of a weapon so large he could barely imagine the size of the shell it would fire, he might not be so fearful; but the thought of the internal firing mechanism began to fascinate him. He sat up and turned around to look at her once again. Yes, the fact that she was clearly an alien and a living machine was as marvelous as it was terrifying. He thought about the way her internal systems looked to operate and how organic they had been. Whoever, or whatever, created Shatter had made something truly astounding. The fear slowly faded as he examined her body again, and one word sprang to his mind; he could not help but say aloud, “Beautiful.”

With his legs no longer feeling like jelly, Leo stood up and slowly walked over to Shatter. The hyper-awareness in his hands had not gone away. He wondered if it would, or if that liquid, energon she had called it, could have some toxic effect on him. After all, an unknown alien fluid giving a human, superhuman sense had to have a drawback, right? Leo stopped at Shatter’s thigh and looked up at her. She really was a sight to behold. Her form's beauty wasn’t like that of a human woman’s, though there were parts of her that were indeed human-like. The giantess was simply stunning how everything fit together and how parts moved on their own even as she rested. This female, he thought, was everything an engineer could hope to build with his own hands, the perfect blend of form and function. He reached out and lightly patted her thigh. His breath caught for a moment. A sudden sensation surged into him he could not explain and a noticeable change in how her metal skin felt. It had been warm, but now he could feel the life in her body. Her metallic flesh's texture was as smooth as the finest forged metal plating but felt almost like latex, a soft, supple latex.

Pulling his hand back, he wondered if this was an effect of his hyper-awareness. Like everything else he had touched, he could pick out subtle differences that otherwise would have gone unnoticed. He chuckled and let his breath out slowly. “You really are something, Shatter.” He whispered, not wanting to wake her when the sound of two doors loudly closing broke the almost idyllic feeling in his garage. Leo glanced at the clock. It was far too early for the tires to be delivered. A knot of panic suddenly grew in his gut. The owners of that car outside could simply be some lost travelers or maybe some missionaries. More likely, he grimly thought, it was the last people he wanted to see right now.


	5. Conversations

Planet: Earth

Location: Northern New England, The White Mountains

The knot of panic in his guts mixed with a deep fear about Shatter’s safety. Thoughts raced through Leo’s mind about what would happen if she were discovered. The news would be Earth-shattering if it went public. What would the Russians or the Americans do, he wondered, if they found her? Currently, the Cold War was at a stalemate with both sides just quietly, and at times not so peacefully, building up their arsenals. “She would change everything.” He said out loud. “The war would get very hot.” Leo tried not to think about the things either government would do to the beautiful machine woman, but he had no time to linger. Putting his hands on her thigh, he began to rock it back and forth with some effort. Again, something surged into him, and this time it felt like something was being pushed or pulled out of him. He would worry about that later.

“Shatter!” He called out, “You have to wake up! Wake up, damnit!” The slow shutter-like opening of her eyes brought him some relief, even as she gave him a look that was equal parts annoyed and angry. “I am sorry, I know you need rest, “he spat out, “but you have to change, or transform or, whatever it is you do to become a car. I do not have time to explain, just, please.” Leo pleaded with her, and her leg twitched to pull away from him. The giantess said nothing but, with a groan, she stood up and, after a glance through the highest window, the great shifting of mechanical parts took place as she once again flawlessly became a Shelby Mustang. “Thank you.” He said, feeling a bit calmer. He had gotten her to transform just in time; because the soft chime of the doorbell rang throughout the house.

Walking quickly, Leo shut the door behind him and crossed the living room to the front door. His home was still quite Spartan, even with all the renovations done over the years. He simply had the things he felt he needed and nothing else. A few art pieces lined the walls,and some minimal decoration here or there helped add some life and color to the room. Mostly there were bookshelves lined with more technical manuals than anything else and a television and VCR on a stand. The Russian didn’t bother looking past the curtain that hung over the door’s window. Grabbing the knob, he turned it and pulled the door open. Leo had been so focused on who might be at the front door he had all but forgotten the new sensations of things his hyper-awareness brought, and his guests made sure he didn’t have time to think about it.

“Morning, Leo.” A smooth, refined male voice spoke to him. Agent John Turner offered him a genuine smile, but his sharp grey-blue eyes darted around. John was not a man who missed many details. However, those eyes were friendly, and Leo smiled and offered to shake his hand without thinking about it. The reaction on his face as Leo’s hand clasped the agent’s cause John’s sharp features to shift a little. “You alright there, Leo? You act as if you’ve never shaken my hand before.” There was a tone in the agent’s voice that was good for breaking the tension, and that made Leo laugh a little as he pulled his hand away.

“Da, sorry.“ He chuckled a little, trying to focus his mind. John was a good man. With a square jaw, sharp chin, and nose with a military cut of salt-and-pepper hair. He was just what someone would imagine when they heard the words “federal agent.” The pressed white shirt, black slacks, and tie helped round out the stereotype. “I guess I am just a little” Leo paused for thought, “excitable is all.” Even after five years, he still had trouble with American English. Damn this slang language, he often thought.

“Oh, yeah?” A rough voice filled with disdain caused Leo to groan as the owner spoke. “Why’s that, Ivan? You got some new secret to keep from Uncle Sam?” Andrew Thomson was a short, stocky man with long hair and an almost rat-like face. Leo’s first impression was that of a slob, which had caused him to underestimate John’s partner. He was dressed similar to John; only Andrew wore an overcoat. “Anyway, you gonna let us in there, Rooskie? It’s starting to get a little cold out here, or do you Commies not have any fucking manners?”

Leo drew in a slow breath and stepped to one side to allow the men to enter. John took the time to stamp his feet on the porch, knocking off as much snow and dirt as he could before stepping inside while Andrew just walked in, tracking the filth on his shoes with him. “So,” Leo said slowly, “what can I do for you two today?” He hoped that the panic he felt in his gut wasn’t leaking into his voice as he leaned against the back of his couch. John was a friend, but he worked for the American government. Neither of these men could know about his guest.

“Sorry to drop in like this on your first day off, Leo,” John said, giving the slightly taller Russian a look of genuine sympathy. “But we were told to do a ‘pop-in’ check-up. You know how this stuff goes.” Before Leo could answer, Andrew, let out a sharp, aggravating laugh.

“Yeah, you know how it is there, Rooskie. Need to make sure you’re not up to any Soviet tricks while being a guest of our amazing country. Oh, by the way, we stopped at the junkyard you go to a lot. It must remind you of home with how much time you spend there.” Andrew let the verbal jab hang there for a moment and grinned as Leo made a fist. “Anyway, the old man told us you scored something pretty nice,“ he began to make his way to the garage, “so let’s see what you managed to scrape up out of that shit hole.” He had been looking at a simple wood carving of a mounted cowboy, no doubt ‘inspecting’ it, before he dropped it unceremoniously back onto the counter and began walking to the garage.

Leo was up from his perch and moved with haste towards the agent. “No, you are not…” his words died off as Andrew turned, stopping the big Russian in his tracks. His hand was inches away from his under-the-shoulder holster, and he met Leo’s eyes with a vicious glare.

“You don’t tell me what to do, Ivan.” He hissed out between gritted teeth. “You just stay there like a good little Stalin cocksucker.” Satisfied with himself, he stood up, smirked while smoothing his jacket, and then went into the garage. A low whistle of appreciation drifted back into the living room as the stocky man entered the converted barn. Leo unrooted himself and swiftly followed. John sucked in a slow, calming breath and shut the front door quietly. He moved slowly, following the other men, taking a slow breath with each step.

Inside the garage, Andrew was looking at the Mustang with his fists on his hips. “Well, I’ll be damned there, Rooskie.” He quipped. “You actually managed to find something decent for once in your life. You know, for a Commie, you have good taste in cars.” Again, he let the insult dig into Leo before he went on. “Hell, you may even get this junk heap to look nice again. I mean, at least you can work on cars.“ He looked over his shoulder with a smug grin on his rodent face. “That VW bus you fixed up for John’s daughter was a good job; for someone like you.” Andrew turned back to look at the Mustang, and he rubbed his chin. “But, you know…” he trailed off for a moment and took a step towards the car. “Even if it is a piece of shit right now, I think a car like this is too good for you. So, tell you what, Ivan, I’m gonna take it off your hands and get it fixed up nice. I mean, it’s a proper American car that only an American should drive.” His shrill laugh pierced the air as he began to move towards the vehicle. His hands began to reach out for the door when suddenly the room spun before his eyes.

Leo didn’t think about what he was going to do. The big Russian simply reacted. With a short, bounding leap, he cleared the distance between himself and the rat-faced agent, grabbed him by the jacket, and without a sound hurled him into the far wall. Andrew’s head banged loudly from the impact with the wall while his hips came into rough contact with a bookshelf, scattering some of its contents. Leo was just barely aware of what he had done, but he stood up to his full height between Andrew and Shatter.

“You. Will. Not. Touch. My Car.” An angry growl punctuated each word from the Russian as he glared at the agent. Leo was in the shit now, and he knew it. But behind him was something far more significant and more glorious than himself. The very thought of that arrogant, rat-faced slime putting his hands on Shatter filled him with rage he didn’t even begin to understand. Andrew, for his part, took the blow rather well and looked only mildly dazed as he rubbed the back of his skull, hissing in pain before he let out a cackle.

“You stupid fucking Commie son-of-a-bitch! You just assaulted a federal officer.” He locked eyes with Leo with an almost feverish grin. “Oh, you are so fucking done now, Rooskie. I’m going to get your traitorous ass shipped back to Moscow, FIRST CLASS!” He stood up, letting out a chuckle. “I hope to God they let me watch you catch a bullet. Or hell, better yet, maybe the Russians will be so damn thankful they’ll let me come visit you in…”

“Agent Thomson!” John’s voice suddenly boomed like thunder, startling both men into looking at him. Andrew instantly withered under the glare of the more senior agent while Leo watched. Without a word, John reached into his pocket and pulled out a set of keys. The older man hurled them with so much force Andrew’s mind had to stop and think if he wanted to dodge, block, or duck the incoming projectile. His body tried to do all three things simultaneously, and he ended up catching the keys only to fumbling with them before finally getting a grip. “Go start the car. We’re done here.” John ordered with an arctic tone.

“But, John, “Andrew began to protest. Another look at those grey-blue eyes got him to think that doing what he was told was the better option. Standing up while smoothing his coat, he walked out of the garage. He wasn’t going to leave letting the Commie see him in an undignified state. After he left, the adrenaline rush seeped out of Leo, who walked over to his reading area and slumped down into a chair. He was a dead man. Andrew would get him deported from America, his protection status revoked, and he would have to answer to the Kremlin for his desertion. And, Shatter. She still needed help. She was still weak, but now that he’d pulled the shrapnel out of her, what use did such a magnificent marvel like her need with him? His head dropped forward.

John let out a breath and leaned against the door frame and looked at the utterly dejected Russian, but he smiled at the man. “Don’t worry about him,“ John said with confidence. “He’s not going to do a damn thing to you, Leo.”

“But, “Leo responded, weakly, “he is right. I attacked a government agent.”

“Well, you did, but you were pretty damn well provoked into it. Honestly, I’ve been hoping you two would get along someday, but that’s not going to happen. I’m sorry for that, Leo.”

“Get along?” Leo asked, anger starting to rise in his voice. “Get along?! How in the hell am I supposed to get along with someone who has, from the first moment, done nothing but insult and provoke me! And in my own home, for God’s sake! Every time, without fail!” He started to get up and then just sank back into the chair. It didn’t do any good to get angry at it now; his life was over.

“Your home?” John asked with a curious tone and smiled as he saw the Russian get riled up again.

“Yes.” Leo hissed as he stood up. “My home! This is my home, damnit! Your government gave it to me, but I fixed it up. I have put my money, my hard work into turning this _haloopa_ into something I could…” he stopped, and the smile on John’s face caused his anger to boil over. Even his ‘friend’ was mocking him now, and Leo just exploded at the man. “What is so GODDAMN FUNNY?!”

“Well,“ John scratched his cheek, unaffected by the outburst. “I just find it nice to hear you call this your home’. I mean, this is coming from Mister, ‘No place in America will ever be home to me.” He chuckled a little and just gave Leo a charming, friendly look. John really did like the man. The big bear of a human deflated a little and sank back into his chair and laughed a little.

“You can be a true asshole, John,” Leo remarked with a soft chuckle even as his head fell into a hand. “I am sorry.”

“Ah,“ John waved his hand, ”don’t worry about that, Leo. I understand you were put through the wringer at work last week, and you’ve barely had a chance to wind down from it, and Andy didn’t help things either. Sorry about him. But, we really came by to tell you that it worked.”

Leo’s head snapped up in surprise. “It worked?” He parroted the question like a robot. John just nodded.

“Almost flawlessly. That new fuel injection for the rocket was tested over the weekend. And it worked, Leo.”

“Almost flawlessly,” Leo said, sinking back down. He was happy, but those were not the words an engineer liked to hear.

“Oh, not because of your design,“ John continued. “The increase in thrust your prototype put through the engines caused several points of structural failure. So, your part worked perfectly. They just need to build a better rocket for your fuel system. Leo, thanks to you, we’re going to be able to launch rockets into space a lot safer and a lot cheaper.” John paused to let that sink into the thick skull of his friend. When Leo got into a mood, good or bad, it was damn hard to break it.

“The word is,” he continued, ”when you get back, you’re going to be put as lead on that other idea you had about a satellite refueling station in orbit. If the aggression between our nations ever ends, well, you’re going to help many people in the world Leo. Anyway, I can’t keep Andy waiting any longer. I also promise you this; you’re not going back to Russia no matter what he says, so don’t worry about that.” John stood up. “Oh, and Lisa loves that bus, by the way. Way to put her parents to shame for her sixteenth birthday.“ He laughed a little. “She treats it like a child.” Leo just grunted, and John wanted to say something else, but shaking his head, he left the man to absorb everything the past few minutes had thrown his way. After the car could be heard pulling away, Leo stayed in his chair as numbness washed over him.

A sensation of panic and worry began to stir inside her spark, rousing Shatter from stasis. She tried to ignore the invasive feeling and stay in the restful bliss of stasis a little longer. The shrapnel was out, and her internal repair systems had closed off the leak; in a solar-cycle, her side would be practically mended. This was the first conscious stasis mode she had entered, and it felt good. The huntress idly wondered what the source of these emotions was. The sensation began to grow more intense, causing her internal systems to bring her entirely online. As her senses became more aware of the world around her, Shatter felt that something was off. Two soft, warm objects were pressed to her thigh. It had to be that human pest touching her again, she thought, but they felt different this time. The femme couldn’t place just what it was that had changed, but the panic in his voice finally got her to open her optics.

She looked down at Leo with a frown of aggravation and saw the worry and panic on his face. Something was wrong, but the huntress didn’t have the energy for a fight. She was about to tell him as much when the human suddenly barked an order at her.

“You have to change or transform,” he ordered her. The little human vermin actually dared to give _her_ an order?! The huntress had some choice words for the human’s sudden impudence, but she decided not to say anything. The panic in his voice and the worried look on Leo’s face stopped her from insulting him for daring to command her. The femme could feel the emotions rushing from him into her. She didn’t like that implication and shifted her thigh away from his even more despicable touch as she stood up. A narrow window at the top of the barn allowed her to take a glance outside, where she saw a single black sedan parked.

“The source of his worry?” She thought to herself, and then, with a soft sigh, she engaged her T-cog and transformed back into her vehicle mode. Bouncing slightly as her suspension cushioned the drop in height, she felt a little better in this mode. Alternate modes were generally much more conservative with energon usage. Shatter would have to talk with the human about that deposit that was nearby. She wasn’t at critically low levels yet, but the sooner she was refilled, the better. Leo thanked her and then rushed out of the garage and shut the door behind him. The huntress could only wonder about just what had him so worked up. In only a few mico-cycles, her answer came swaggering into the garage.

Her sensors had the displeasure of looking at a long-haired, unkempt, stocky stain of the human species. Everything about this male was unpleasant to Shatter, though she could not say precisely why. Her exposure to the human race was Leo, the fat one, and now this one. The femme wondered if Leo was perhaps the only visually pleasing earthling on the entire planet. She didn’t like _that_ thought either. Organics were not supposed to be attractive, not to her anyway, and Leo was the worst. The way he kept putting his soft, squishy, warm hands on her or touching her in ways and places no one else had ever discovered, but he didn’t insult her senses as much as this one did. The sound he made with his mouth, a whistling noise, sent a shiver down her spine.

The slovenly looking human began to talk, and her distaste for the creature began to grow. The way he spoke to Leo implied superiority, and while she didn’t understand some of the words the arrogant humans used, the tone of his voice made it clear they were insults. The attitude of the slob made her laugh internally. Humans were all equally inferior in her mind. Only Leo had managed to climb just a few rungs above the rest of his revolting species. The human then went on to call her a ‘piece of shit’ and threatened to take her out of Leo’s care, as if he had that right. Shatter had no idea what ‘shit’ was, but the way the human used it made the word a clear insult directed at her. The huntress didn’t have the energon for a fight, but she could easily crush the three human males. “Wait,” she thought, “three? Where did that one come from?”

The huntress focused on the cleaner and older-looking human before her attention was turned back to the slob as he approached her. She was about to transform and put an end to all of this when movement flashed across her sensors. Leo bounded forward, grabbed the other male by the floppy armored layer he had on, and hurled him away. Shatter smiled, hearing the satisfying ‘smack’ of the impact the man’s head made against the wall. To her surprise, Leo then stood in front of her as if he were protecting her. Something began to stir deeply in her spark that she didn’t want to consider at the moment. “Stupid human.” She thought. “It’s not like I need you to defend me.” But, the huntress had never expected such a gallant effort from one of Leo’s kind; and for her sake as well. 

Leo referred to her as “my car” again, but this time it didn’t bother her. There was passionate anger in his voice that her audio receptors picked up, which she enjoyed hearing. It seemed Leo was capable of more than just being an organic pervert who liked to touch her all the time. “Come to think of it,“ she mused while the humans argued, “he did show some impressive ball bearings to convince me to let him operate on me. Maybe, there’s more to this human, at least, I should consider.” The sudden threat, from the slob, about sending Leo away to have him killed turned all over her attention to that human. Anger burned in her spark towards the slovenly male. He sounded just like the Autobots. They were so proud, confident that their way was the will of Primus. And that anyone who went against _their_ vision for life on Cybertron was executed. This human reminded her of their arrogance and self-important heroics that the huntress almost transformed just to have the satisfaction of crushing him under her fist.

The third human finally spoke, however, and his words cut through her anger. Now there, she thought, was someone with a commanding presence. Quietly and with some interest, she watched the rest of the conversation play out. The slob ‘Agent Thomson’ had withered and looked to protest, and despite straightening up his layered armor, still slinked out of the garage. Shatter could not help but smile to herself at his disgrace. A sudden, alarming concern came to her as Leo just seemed to collapse into a chair. “Wait,“ she thought, “why am I concerned for him? If he dies, then that’s better for me anyway.” But, the huntress could not just so casually dismiss someone who had stood up for her either. That’s all it was; she convinced herself. However, when the older male let it out that Leo had access and worked on rockets, her consideration of Leo’s usefulness went up a few notches.

“So, “she thought, “I have a human who can actually do mechanical work, who will dig out energon for me, and has access to this world’s primitive rocket technology.” She let the implications of that dance in her mind for a moment. “If he’s going to work on a refueling station for these laughable excuses for satellites, then he may have access to some form of long-range communication. Primus,” she let the excited thoughts rush into her circuits, “he could be the very thing I need to complete my mission. By the Allspark, if he is, then I can put up with his warm, soft, disgusting hands all over me for now.” She almost wanted to laugh at her good fortune. “I can always kill him later.” She turned her side mirror to look at him. He should have been happy he had gotten such good news, but he looked as if all the life had just drained out of him. Her audio receptors shifted a little as she heard the car outside pulling away.

Once Shatter was certain the other humans were gone, she transformed and carefully peeked out the window. There was nothing outside but trees and the white blanket that was now imprinted with even more tire tracks. Alone with Leo again, she glanced down at him. He hadn’t moved from the seat or changed his posture. She moved to stand slightly in front of him and just observed him for a moment. He didn’t react at all. Shatter let out a sigh and finally said something to break the silence.

“I didn’t need you to defend me, Leo.” She said with some mild annoyance in her voice. Crossing her arms over her chest she tapped a bicep with her finger. “But,” the femme was about to thank him and then shifted her train of thought, “why didn’t you just tell them what I was?” That question seemed to pierce through whatever mood he was in, and Leo finally looked up at her. Shatter was almost shocked at how hollow his eyes looked now. They had been so full of life, for an organic, just a cycle before.

“Oh,” he responded dully, “that. I,“ he looked away from her and seemed to think for a moment. “I think it is wise not to let anyone else know about you.” Shatter was somewhat flattered by his answer, and it would make her mission a little easier if the one ‘ally’ she had for the moment could keep her a secret, but that didn’t really answer her question.

“And why is that?” She pressed him. “You were very excited when you thought I was just a normal earth vehicle. You could barely keep your hands off of me.” Something internal began to grow hot as she said it out loud, but Shatter ignored it. She was now genuinely curious. “I’d have thought you would tell the other,” she paused for a moment, “humans about me.” Shatter was about to call them all ‘vermin,’ but Leo didn’t entirely fall into that category anymore, and she didn’t need to sound like an Autobot; or that other revolting slob called Agent Thomson. The femme waited as Leo seemed to be thinking over how to answer that.

“My nation, Russia, and this one, America, are engaged in a Cold War. We have been since the end of the Second World War.” That answer made Shatter raise her brows. This planet wasn’t a united species and had fought two world wars? It was an almost unreal concept to her. Leo continued, “Mostly, it has been an arms race with each side building up and stockpiling weapons, conventional and nuclear, but it is really at a stalemate right now. No side has an advantage.” He looked at her, and that worry crept back into his face, “But you, you would change everything.”Leo shook his head. “I cannot let anyone know about you. They might try to control you, so you fight for them, or, “some color drained from his face, “they may try to find out how you function. Both thoughts are detestable. I do not know if I can protect you from them, but I will try.”

Shatter looked at the human, stunned. Didn’t he see what she was? Could a being that only came up to the middle of her thigh understand how little it would take to crush him and all of his species under her foot? Her weapons would be more than a match for any primitive war machine the humans might have. “Still,” she thought, “they managed to split the atom, and Primus knows how many of them there are.” She recalled the ugly yellow machine filled with smaller organics. One against a thousand were not good odds, no matter how powerful she might be. Was he going to stand between her and his entire species? That deep, stirring sensation began to grow in her spark again, and she just suppressed it. 

“Well, that’s very brave of you, Leo.” She said and started to look around the garage with more than just her alt mode’s somewhat limited sensors. She didn’t hear the dismissive laugh coming from the human while she examined her surroundings. Shatter had been right at her first guess; the building was long enough she could lay down inside it. The garage’s back end was almost barren, save for some stacked boxes and a few mechanical odds and ends. Her optics turned and swept over the workbench and stopped at an oddity. There, pegged to the wall, was a long sheet of material with numbers on the bottom and the top half was a picture. She zoomed in on it and scoffed. Leo had an image of a female human in a seductive pose hanging there. He was more like the mechs of Cybertron than she first thought, another curious similarity to her species.

The female in the picture had some ludicrous helmet with a wide brim and a pointed top. The two large orbs on her chest were fully exposed while a thin strip of armor covered her crotch and armored leggings, which only went up to her thighs and were stripped in garish orange and black patterns. Shatter had felt how soft human skin was, and it could not, as far as she knew, harden as Cybertronian metal could. “What odd armor configurations you humans have.” She remarked.

“Ah,“ he said, coughing slightly. Shatter looked at him and noticed his face had turned red, and he was not looking at the barely armored female. “That is, not armor.” He reached up and grabbed at his layered armor. “It is clothing.”

“Clothing?” She repeated, curious. “Then, if it isn’t armor, what’s the point in wearing it?” He looked at her as if she had asked him to explain something which everyone should have just known. His face broke from that turned down, bleak look into a broad smile, and he laughed. Shatter was a little flustered at his reaction. What had she said which was so funny?

“Sorry,“ he said as his laughter died out, “sorry it is just, I never thought I would have to explain what clothing is to anyone.” Leo leaned back into the chair and gave her a simple explanation. Clothes existed because of cultural norms and nudity, as well as offering protection from the natural world. In some way, Shatter thought, it was armor. Leo confirmed her assumption that humans could not tighten their skin for protection. Most mechs and femmes had some armor from their alt modes, and those often served to protect more delicate areas. The next mega-cycle was spent talking with the humans and learning some basic things about their biology, their location, and how humans sustained themselves.

“Your food,“ she commented, “is like engeron.” Leo perked at that as he leaned forward in his chair.

“What is that? You mentioned it before when I pulled that shrapnel from you. What does it do?” It was her turn to give him a perplexed look by having to explain something everyone was supposed to know. She sighed. Yes, he was an alien, but this planet was absurdly rich in that mineral; how could humans not understand what it was?!

“Energon, “she explained, “is the lifeblood of my species. We use it for everything. It fuels our bodies and our spacecraft. It powers our weapons and is even used as currency before…” she trailed off and waved her hand, brushing the thought away. “That doesn’t matter. What matters is, I need energon, and there’s a large deposit on your land.” She noticed Leo’s face light up. “So,“ she thought, “he’s curious to see what energon is? But why doesn’t he know this already?” Her thoughts on this line were interrupted by Leo’s question.

“So, what are you? Who built you, and where do you come from?” He was sitting on the edge of the chair, hands clasped in front of him, giving her his full attention. The excitement and thirst for knowledge made her spark flutter a little, and she felt energon rise in her cheeks.

Shatter paused before she responded. She was about to say “an autonomous robot,” but that was how the Autobots talked about themselves as if the Decepticons had no minds of their own and were controlled by Megatron. She hid the disgust on her face from Leo and came up with a suitable answer. “I’m a sentient mechanical life form, from the planet Cybertron. I was forged by Primus, the very core of my world and the creator of all Cybertronian life. Our bodies are created from the living metal of Cybertron; our sparks are given to us from his all-powerful Allspark.” That, to her, sounded like a reasonable explanation. Leo leaned back a little and looked up at her.

“So, did you use one of your spacecraft to get here?” He asked, which caused her to give him a skeptical look.

“No,“ she let the sarcasm drip in her voice, “I walked here.” His laughter surprised her as she blinked. 

“Ah,“ Leo said through his laugh, “You still have a sense of humor. That is good.” His smile made her spark flutter again, and she just turned away from him. Why was he causing such reactions in her? “So,“ he went on, “where is your ship? Can I see it?”

“No,” Shatter said, slowly wrapping her arms around her body, “It was destroyed after I was shot down.” The sudden movement of his body made her turn her head to watch him.

“Shot down?!” His brows were raised as his jaw hung open for a moment. “Shot down?” Leo repeated the question, quieter this time as he rubbed his beard. “But, who could have shot you down? I find it hard to believe. Did the craft have a white star on a blue field, or did it have red stars on the wings and tail?” Shatter turned back to him, curious, and then shook her head. The realization slowly crept over his face. “But, why would one of your own shoot you down?” A sudden gust of wind battered the garage and concealed the crunch of tires over the snow-covered ground outside. Shatter’s antenna raised up suddenly, and then, before answering Leo’s question, she moved and transformed back into her car mode.

Leo sat, wondering about the sudden shift of his alien guest when he heard a door slam shut outside. A knot grew in his stomach again, but this time, instead of a doorbell ringing, there was a knock at the garage. He looked at the clock on the wall. It was five minutes afternoon, and he relaxed as he got up. He walked past Shatter and slid the garage door open. He was greeted by a blast of wintery air and smiled at the young man standing in front of him.

“Afternoon, Mister Kogan.” The teenager said in a relaxed voice. “I’ve got those tires you ordered and, whoa.” The young male looked past Leo and saw the Mustang sitting in his garage. “Oh man, what a gnarly ride you scored!” Leo had to laugh a little at Daniel.

“Yes, she is, ah, how would you say? Radical?” Leo was still trying to understand American slang, and Daniel just laughed.

“Oh, totally. That’s a far-out car, man. Anyway, here’s the bill Mister Kogan. I’ll unload the tires for you, dude.” Leo just chuckled and took the offered bill, and started to walk away before he stopped.

“Ah, Daniel, please do not touch her. She is pretty delicate right now.” He got a confirmation from the teen and then went inside the main house to get his checkbook. By the time he had gotten back into the garage, Daniel had unloaded the tires and was standing, not looking at Shatter but at the calendar on the wall. He cleared his throat, and the young man turned and just gave him an awkward smile. “Thank you, Daniel,“ Leo handed him the check. Daniel took it with a smile and headed for the door. “Drive safe; the snow is going to be starting soon.

The teen just gave a wave as he got back into the van and pulled away. Another burst of cold, snow-laced air rushed into the garage, and Leo slid the door shut and, this time, locked the latch closed. “There.” He said as he turned to look at Shatter and then the tires. “Uh, can I even put these on you?” Leo reacted with a start when the car spoke. He knew the Mustang wasn’t even really a car, but it was still an uncanny experience.

“You can put those on me, Leo.” Shatter responded, though he couldn’t tell where the voice came from in this configuration of her body. “My systems will adapt your primitive materials into something suitable. After all, I was able to take on this earth vehicle form.” Leo had to stop himself from laughing. She sounded so proud of that fact, and he supposed if he were an alien shape-shifting robot, he would be proud as well. A thought came to his mind.

“Will this hurt?” He could almost see the look on her face by the tone of her voice when she responded.

“Does it hurt when you remove your outer layers?” Leo chuckled at that and shrugged. It seemed to him parts like this were more external even if they appeared integrated into her robot form. He just smiled with fascination at her incredible alien biology.

“Alright, well, the tires you do have are in pretty bad shape, so some new rubber and rims should hopefully help you feel a little better.” The Russian paused for a moment looking at the red and black Mustang. “Uh, “he gave a bashful look at her, “may I put them on you?” It had dawned on him that most of the day he had spent putting his hands all over her. His cheeks got a little hot and red as he thought about that. Good Lord, how would he feel if someone was just touching all the time without permission? Shatter broke that thought train by giving an affirmative, and he got to work setting the tires up around her. Stepping away from her, he grabbed the floor jack and tire iron. As he got back over to her, he picked up where they had left off. “So, who shot you down and why?” He positioned the jack under her frame and began to pump the handle to lift her. Shatter was silent for a long while before she spoke.

“My planet, my people, were engaged in a civil war.” She began with a soft voice. To Leo, it sounded like her words were stained with remorse and anger. “Cybertron has, and still does, operates under a strict caste system. Do you have anything like that here?” He nodded with a grunt working on getting a lug nut loose. After a puff of effort, he stood, grabbed the can of WD-40, and began spraying it over all her lug nuts while she continued.”The body you were forged into dictated your role in life, and that was your only role; you may serve in different ways, but if you were an administrator, you didn’t do manual labor.” Stories from India came to his mind as he glanced at her. There was such rage in her voice he could hear the strain as she tried to speak calmly.

“My caste were sent out to conquer new worlds for the senate. Our general, Megatron, had the idea that just because you had been forged into a particular body didn’t mean you had only to serve that function. The warriors were reorganized not by function but by talent and skill. There were three who wanted to quit being soldiers and go back to Cybertron and do something different.” While Leo started to work on the first set of bolts again, this time feeling them give, he heard a sharp bitterness enter her voice. Such a radical idea likely didn’t sit well with the ruling class, he thought.

“Megatron was happy to let them go. The General was glad they chose a different path in life. And then we all got to witness their public execution by the senate. Their crime was simply wanting to live a different life, to do something other than their function. The General called an end to all operations and ordered us all back to our homeworld. There, he simply began to talk, openly, about the need for change, how we didn’t have to live by how we were forged, that Primus had better things for us. Everyone who followed him was branded a ‘Decepticon’ for listening to the lies and deceptions of a heretic.”

“Sounds like typical wartime propaganda to me.” The sour thought came to his mind as he recalled the corrosive nature of the anti-Russian, and anti-American sentiment he had seen in both countries. Leo stood to stretch for a moment and briefly touched her fender before yanking his hand away like he had been burned. He looked at Shatter with wide eyes, then at his hands. Leo had felt, as keenly as if it were his mind, the white-hot rage and bitterness in her as she spoke. With a gulp, he got back to work. The first tire was loose enough to be replaced, and he set his mind on that while he listened. But that sensation had been seared onto him. Unsure of what caused that sensation, Leo was a little more cautious about where he put his hands as he worked.

“I don’t know who actually started the war,“ Shatter continued, “but we Decepticons lost. General Megatron ordered as many of us off the world as he could. I fled to this world, but I was followed.“ Leo set the new tire on her body and lightly brushed his hands against the inside of her fenders, and regretted it as her emotional turmoil scorched through his mind again.

“Good God,“ he thought, “she is angry and very dangerous.” Though uneasy and now a little wary of her, he kept working. A dark thought of what might happen if she directed that anger at him ran through his mind; so better to keep on her good side, he thought. While that ‘happy’ idea ran through his mind, the Russian was left to wonder just how on earth he was able to feel such a connection with the alien in the first place. He decided it was best to consider those questions later and listen to her story; it would be rude not to after all.

“I was shot down, and I don’t know where on your world, and the mech who had followed me was the one who…” Shatter’s voice trailed off for a moment, “but I killed him by blowing up my ship. I don’t remember much after that other than walking, falling, and then waking up in that graveyard of metal.” Two things came to his mind as she finished. First, the emotion in Shatter’s voice had been sorrowful before changing to a fierce satisfied pride with the tale of her kill. The other matter was figuring out what a “mech” was—something else to add to the growing list of things to ask her.

Leo gave out a sharp grunt as his hand slipped on the back wheel, and he sliced it open on her back fender. He shook his hand and ignored the blood welling up on the wound. It wasn’t a deep cut. He was more surprised that he didn’t feel any of her emotions at that time. The idea briefly came to him that this was a very curious start to their relationship. This conversation, he felt, left him with more questions than answers.

“Well.“ He said somberly but didn’t know what else to say. He smiled to himself, and after trying to push his unease away, patted her fender lightly. He had to wonder if the connection, for lack of a better word, went both ways. “I guess I need to think about how to hide you from another giant, alien robot as well.” He tried to add some humor into his voice, but it came out sounding flat and forced.

Mentally, Shatter winced at the hand on her body again. Nothing the human had done so far hurt, and she doubted his ability to harm her, but there was a new development she didn’t like. The huntress could feel Leo’s emotional state, and she didn’t like what that could imply. Just how and when they had begun the slow bonding process many of her species enjoyed, or loathed, was a mystery for another time. Shatter didn’t want to think about it and tried to shift her mind to something, anything, to distract her. She recalled that slovenly looking human called “Agent Thomson” and how he had addressed Leo.

“Why did that one human call you a traitor?” Shatter asked, pushing her own softly simmering rage to the side to focus on him for a moment. Her side mirror shifted to get a look at him and watch as his expression turned sad and melancholy. He should have been honored that she was taking an actual interest in him, but his mood was far removed from anything resembling pride.

“Ah, yes…” Leo began and let out a heavy, mournful sigh as he stood up and lowered her down, the second tire change completed. Gathering his tools, he went to the other side. The human seemed suddenly sluggish to her visual sensors as if some great weight were on him. “I mentioned the Cold War, but I did not tell you how I fit into that fucking mess.” Again, Shatter heard a human word that was absent from the lexicon Soundwave had given her; but the tone of his voice didn’t imply it was anything pleasant.

“As I said, I was born in Russia,” he began slowly, as if the words were laborious ”one of the republics, the founding one actually, that forms the ‘Union of the Soviet Socialist Republics,’ the ‘USSR’ for short or the ‘Soviet Union’ as the Americans like to call it. It was and is my home, and once I was old enough, the army conscripted me. Not that I had much choice in that or what I did once I was in. There are physical and mental tests, and some educational backgrounds are taken into account as well. I was assigned to a mechanized company where I got to work on maintaining the armored vehicles.”

“Interesting,“ Shatter said. She noticed some hints of fondness in his voice and face while he recalled his military days. Her estimation of his usefulness had gone up a little more. Primitive as it may have been, by her measure Leo still had military training regarding mechanical matters and could prove valuable should she get damaged again. Though it was no doubt backward by her standards, serving in his military should have been a source of pride for the human. The femme was left to wonder why he sounded so guilty about something.

“My time there gave me a specialization, and when I returned, that allowed me to enroll and study aerospace engineering. I guess this sort of thing is natural to me. While some of my peers struggled, I was finishing my thesis and ready to graduate a year early.” He let out a chuckle devoid of any real emotion. “Some of my teachers thought I would be the next champion of the Soviet space program like Sergei Korolev. Many regard him as the founder of Soviet astronautics“ He let out another emotionless laugh and shook his head. 

“I guess someone in the military thought some of my ideas were actually worthwhile. Since I graduated early, I was contacted by them and recruited to work on a project that was supposed to give our country the edge over the Americans finally”. She heard him give a frustrated grunt and let out a curse as the tire iron clattered onto the ground. From her mirror, she saw him rubbing his hand as a red liquid dripped from it. Shatter noticed that he was frowning and had a vacant look on his face. He grabbed the tool and got back to work.

“While I was studying, my grandfather had been.” His voice broke a little, and he stopped working and sat down on one knee. “My father had served in the army, proudly, “ Shatter was having trouble following him as his thoughts seemed to be scattered and confused, “but he died when I was little in a border skirmish. My mother took me to my grandfather’s house, and I never saw her again.” She watched him take a long, deep breath while his body shuddered a little.

“Sorry, let me finish this tire first.” There was a deep, unhidden sorrow in his voice. The femme was curious now, more than she likely should have been, about what could cause such a breakdown in this human. So far, though she would not admit it to him, his bravery had impressed her. He had the ball bearings for such a tiny creature that would put some mech’s she knew to shame. He had been defiant towards her so he could operate on her wound. Shatter had also just seen him stand up to an unmistakable authority figure, who tried to bully the male with his position, and all to keep her safe no less. What, she wondered, could make this human break?

“Leo, “she asked gently, trying to change a clearly uncomfortable subject, “what is a ‘grandfather? Or a ‘father’ and ‘mother’ for that matter.” Leo’s laugh in response to her question had a little more emotion to it than previous ones.

“Sorry, sorry.” He said as he finished up with her rear tire and lowered her back down. “I guess,“ Leo went on, “since you are forged into a body, birth is not something you would be familiar with.” She watched him scratch at his chin before nodding. “Humans are born. A male and a female, join together,“ the femme noticed his cheeks growing red, “and the male, the father, passes genetic information into the female, the mother, and a new human life is,“ he paused in thought, “assembled inside of her until it’s ready to be ejected. Does that make any sense?”

“I suppose. So, a grandfather is the father of a father?” Shatter said slowly, not fully grasping the concept, but he happily nodded as she seemed to put the two ideas together. He grinned as he moved to the final tire to change. Someday, if she cared enough about it, she would have to ask him just how all of this happens.

“Well,“ he said, rolling the last new tire over. “I will have to tell you about human reproduction someday. Anyway, my grandfather raised me, I mean he taught me lessons, how to behave, how to be a good man and citizen, some basic skills and things like that. My father was dead, and my mother vanished, so he was all I had. He was a strict but fair man and served as a priest. You,“ his head popped up to look at her, “know what a priest is, right?

“Of course,“ Shatter responded, insulted by such a question. “Religion isn’t something only you humans understand. Honestly, I’m surprised that your primitive minds can grasp such a concept.” He just shook his head as a response and focused on his work.

“Well,” Leo picked the story back up, “my grandfather was fiercely passionate in his faith and nationalistic zeal. Religion is a touchy subject in the USSR. On the one hand, it is good for stirring up the people with national pride, the will of God and all of that; on the other, well, priests can be trouble, fearing God and not man.” Shatter felt that his words were becoming more hollow as he spoke. “My grandfather wrote to me, often, while I was in the army and told me all about the ‘Godless KGB,’ our counter-intelligence agency and secret police, infiltrating the church to make sure it led the people the ‘right way.’ Which, as far as my grandfather was concerned, was not how God intended it to be. So, as he wrote, he would denounce these men at every chance he had. In the church, on the street, even in front of their headquarters if he had to. And knowing him, that is exactly what he did.”

There was no need for the huntress to touch Leo to know his emotional state. His feelings were as clear to her sensors as a cloudless day. Bitter sorrow and anger marked his face and his words while he continued his story.

“While I was in my last year of study, he was arrested for treason. He was put on a mock trial, convicted, and sent off to a maximum-security prison no better than the old forced labor camps. He died there just before I graduated.” Anguish racked his voice while he choked on a sob that shook his body. “God in heaven, it does not get any easier to talk about. I am sorry, Shatter.” Leo wiped at his eyes and then got back to work. The femme almost wanted to transform and offer him some kind of comfort. That depth of sorrow was one she knew well. It amazed her that she could feel any kinship with a human. But, much of what he explained, she had experienced on Cybertron. Corrupt officials that refused any change, punishing those who had done nothing wrong and losing someone very dear to one’s spark. However, such an act would be beneath her; Leo was still just a human after all.

Taking a ragged breath while mounting the last tire Leo continued while the huntress listened. “I guess the people my grandfather tried to expose really wanted to make sure anyone related to him paid the price for trying to do the right thing. After I got done with the university studies, I was given my first special project for the military. They wanted me to modify my thesis on a satellite refueling station to be an orbital weapons platform. Nuclear-powered so it could stay in orbit nearly indefinitely. On paper, I was in charge. In reality, they put an idiot from the KGB to oversee the project and order me around.” As he continued, Shatter noticed that sorrow was gradually replaced by an angry tone full of indignation.

“The stupid bastard didn’t listen to a word I said. He wanted it up, no matter the cost. Corners were to be cut at every level, safety was disregarded, and all of my protests and recommendations were met with ‘Boy, do you not want to prove you are loyal to the state, unlike your grandfather?’ Or ‘Now, now, boy, you don’t want to end up like your grandfather?’ But often, I was just told to make it work.’” Leo spun the tire iron angrily, tightening the last bolt. “At every blasted turn, that is what I was met with.” He stood up and began tapping the tool on his thigh. “Do you know what failure in the launch would mean, Shatter? The entire atmosphere of earth irradiated for who knew how long. It would have been an extinction-level event; he knew it!”

Shatter was surprised to see him hurl the tire iron away as he angrily twisted the handle of the floor jack to lower her down. “The stupid fucking bastard knew it! How could he not? I told him time and time again what would happen. But that is what he wanted and who was I to argue? This petty, spiteful man wanted to look so good to his superiors and punish anyone related to my grandfather so badly that he wanted the project to fail and leave me with all the blame. I could see the headline they would spin. So I sabotaged everything I could, destroyed everything else, and defected to America with the only remaining copies of the project’s schematics.” Slowly the big Russian lumbered over to the tire iron and picked it up. 

“I ran like a coward, Shatter. My father died defending the Motherland. My grandfather stood up for what was right and true, and me? The last of the Kogan men? I ran into the arms of our most hated enemy.” Shatter heard him sigh and watched as his broad body deflated. “That is why I am a traitor. That is why he talks to me like that. I am a worthless traitor and a coward. I deserve a bullet, but,” he sighed, “I guess as long as the Americans have a use for me, they won’t let that happen.” He let out another hollow laugh. “Unless Thomson gets his way.”

The huntress sat, unsure of what to do with the human or her feelings towards him. “How,” she wondered, “can he call himself a coward? For Primus’ sake, he looked right into my autocannon and then convinced me to let him operate! What a foolish male.” Shatter didn’t say that out loud, though. She had seen mechs, giants compared to him with more power than his mind could realize, begging and crying out for mercy before she ruthlessly dispatched them. Though he was small, only tall enough to reach her thigh, this pitiful, weak, fleshy bag of meat was more courageous than many of her kind. It numbed her to try and fathom how he could think so little of himself. From her mirror, she could tell that a dark cloud of emotion was hanging over him, so she was surprised when he stood up and turned with a forced smile on his face. “So,” he said, sounding far happier than he was, “tell me where I can find this energon supply so you can get some fuel in you. I would be a terrible person to go through all this trouble only to let you starve.”

Miles away, John Turner watched the forest move past him in a blur from the passenger seat. He’d let Andrew drive because the older man needed to think. Something was amiss. His palms were tingling along with a slight prickly feeling on the back of his neck. Experience had taught him not to ignore those sensations.

“Andrew,“ he said, not looking away from the window, “did anything seem off to you about Leo?” A dismissive snort was the first indication John got that his partner would be of no help; the fool.

“The only thing off is the way you treat that Commie. Seriously, John, you act as if he really is your friend. Can’t you see it’s just an act, and that son of a bitch is just waiting for the right moment to take advantage of you? Crack that head open and get everything you know back to Moscow?” John noted that the younger man didn’t even try to hide the anger or abject disgust he held for Leo. The older man bit back a sigh and just let the young fool wallow in it. The first rule, or one of the first rules, John thought, was never to believe your own side’s propaganda. Andrew had fallen for the ‘Red Menace’ scare harder than anyone he knew.

Sure, the war of attrition between the two superpowers was more active and reactive espionage than open warfare, he admitted. Still, not everyone who was from the other side was a spy or a double agent or whatever else Andrew seemed to fancy Leo ‘actually’ was in his racist mind. John admitted to himself that Andrew was not a bad agent, just blind to his own bias. Still, there was something about that visit that just didn’t sit right with him. For one thing, Leo had never gone off the handle like that and attacked Andrew, no matter how much he was provoked. John sat up and folded his arms across his chest in thought.

Andrew, he recalled, had done any number of things to get the Russian riled up, and Leo never took the bait, but this time he did. And all over a car. He knew it would be a damn fine one when Leo was done with it, but it was still just a car. The way his friend had reacted, however, was unusual. And then, there were the claw marks in the concrete he had noticed while the two of them had their little pissing contest. The marks were shallow but looked like something, or someone had just dug their fingers into the stone and left some rather impressive-looking grooves in it. Also, there was a strange gooey puddle near the garage door and the unmistakable smell of mint in the air. For as long as he had known Leo, that was not a scent associated with the man.

Still, those marks could have been something Leo did last night after work. Before they left the office, Leo’s supervisor called and noted that his coworkers had been especially ruthless to him. Likely, John thought, because the prototype Leo designed was going to be tested. He had seen what happened when the big Russian got into one of his moods, and depending on the emotion at that moment could be anything from severe depression to barely controlled rage, which might explain the claw-like marks on the garage floor. Take one pissed-off bear-of-a-man, a building full of tools, and you ended up with some gouge marks in the concrete. 

The strange, blue-white puddle could have been something from the Mustang; he wasn’t all that knowledgeable when it came to the actual guts of a vehicle, any vehicle for that matter. And as for the smell of mint, well, maybe Leo was just trying something new to calm his mood or a different flavor of tobacco. Those were all possible explanations for those little oddities. As for the anger, well, Andrew had flat-out threatened to steal his new car, which was a handy explanation for that impressive toss Leo had given him. Yes, John thought, those were all very sound and very reasonable reasons for the unusual encounter. But that tingling and prickling sensation didn’t go away. 

Finally, he let out a sigh and turned to watch the forest whiz by from the window. “Leo,“ he thought, “I hope you’re not involved in anything I can’t help you with.” John was worried about a man he considered family. On that note, he shot a glance at Andrew. When they got back to the office, it was high time the young agent and his poor attitude towards an important national asset were dealt with.


End file.
